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wingodex · 3 years

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The Old Guard Speech Patterns Analysis

I made a post on the speech patterns of the main characters in The Old Guard, and a lot of people seemed interested in it, so I’ve cleaned up and clarified the rest of my notes. What I’ve looked at specifically here is mostly related to syntax, so grammar and sentence structure. I’ve vaguely looked at pragmatics, which has to do with how context contributes to meaning, and semantics, which deals with the meaning of words, phrases and sentences. I’ve also looked at sociolinguistics, which has to do with the effect of society on language, but I want to be upfront in saying that it’s not my personal area of interest so my knowledge is lacking there. On that same point, I have no formal linguistics training, I’m just into conlanging and everything I know about linguistics is self taught. For each of the characters I’ve talked about contraction usage, colloquialisms, phrases, verb and verb tense usage, ellipses, sentence composition, adjective and adverb frequency, discourse markers and fillers, profanity, vocabulary(ish), and questions.

You can also find all of this on ao3.

Couple of disclaimers to start: while this is obviously a great tool for fic writing, and can help you get a feel for the way that the characters speak in the movie, I’m asking non-Black writers to be very careful about the way you use some of this information when it comes to Nile. When Nile speaks, she uses a lot of colloquial/vernacular language, and while she doesn’t speak AAVE in the movie, her syntax does contain vernacular features. The history of transcribing colloquial language and vernacular dialects—African American/Black English in particular—is racist, classist and ableist. Your decision to write in colloquial language or to incorporate elements of Black English, rather than using Standard English, into Nile’s dialogue can potentially continue a tradition of racial othering if you’re not wary and conscious. Colloquial language in written form is often used to imply a lack of intelligence, a lack of education or a lower class. Be especially considerate of transcribing colloquial reductions like “wanna,” “gotta,” etc. Avoid eye-dialect at all cost, please, I am begging you. In general, the best way to transcribe dialects is through rhythm of prose, syntax, idioms/figures of speech and vocabulary. Even if you rely on those techniques for Nile, I’m still advising the utmost caution due to the complexity of syntax of AAVE and other dialects. For those unfamiliar with AAVE, I go into more detail about it here. If you do decide to use vernacular language for Nile, I’m going to insist you look into copula deletion/zero copula in AAVE outside of this post. It’s usage is very complex and specific. If you decide to use colloquial language for her to really take advantage of the intelligent way that she uses style-shifting in the movie then, at the very least, remember that the other characters (with the exception of Nicky) also use colloquial language frequently in the movie as well. If Nile is the only one in your fic using colloquial language, that’s a problem.

Most of the contextual analysis as it relates to sociolinguistics is based on my own speculation and interpretation of all the data I’ve collected. They contain my own personal biases and are influenced by my own experiences. If you have another interpretation of any of this, I’m absolutely interested in hearing it. Also, there is simply not enough data for any of my observations to be definitive, especially for Joe and Nicky. The two of them combined say around the same number of sentences as Booker, and he only says half as many sentences as Andy. There are literally verb tenses/aspects that not a single person uses in the whole movie. It’s also important to note that I am fallible, and while I do think most of this is accurate, I probably fucked up and missed something or miscounted! More than once! In some cases, I was only able to find one example of something and while I’ve included those observations, they are in no way indicative of a pattern, so don’t view them as strict rules.

I threw around a lot of jargon in this, and there wasn't really an easy way to avoid doing that while talking about most of this stuff. Descriptions are provided throughout the post. I've done my best to define all the more complex and lesser-known concepts, and to provide specific examples from the movie but feel free to reach out if you're unsure about any of it. Basic English grammar things that will be helpful to know to understand all of this post: parts of speech (nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, prepositions, conjunctions, determiners, interjections), clauses (subject + predicate), tense–aspect–mood for verb conjugation (in English we have: past and non-past; perfective, imperfective, and progressive; and indicative, imperative, and subjunctive), phrase structure, auxiliary verbs, phrasal verbs, wh-movement (who, what, when, where, why, how) and sentence sequencing (in English it’s SVO, or subject-verb-object).

On ellipsis: for Andy, Nile and Booker (and Joe, a little bit), the types of ellipses I focused on were mostly the types that you only see in spoken colloquial English. For Nicky, I talked a lot more about further classification of ellipses that do sometimes apply to the other four, but aren’t as noticeable.

For phrases, I mostly included idioms and expressions to avoid listing every single phrase in the movie. I generally avoided noun phrases (with a few exceptions), and I don't think I mention any adverb phrases.

For my own purposes, I’ve decided to define fillers as discourse markers without lexical content that are used to indicate that the pause while speaking is only temporary. The rest of the discourse markers use standard classification.

Thank you to both @disregardandfelicity and @youknowthegirls for looking over this post for me!

Andy

Andy uses every contraction for auxiliary verbs and personal pronouns (e.g. I’m, you’ve, it’s, etc). I mean, she actually doesn't in the movie, but she comes so close that I feel confident in saying she would use all the others. The Wikipedia page for English Auxiliary Verbs has a great chart for contractions. Of the characters, she's literally the only one who does this with this level of consistency.

Her contraction usage isn't limited to personal pronouns. She uses contractions with demonstrative, interrogative, relative and indefinite pronouns. She also uses contractions with "there" and "where", and presumably with “when” and “how” although there are no examples of that in the movie. She uses contractions with negative modal verbs.

Andy uses both the simple future and the more colloquial going-to future construction at various points in the movie. She seems to have a preference for going-to future, and the only time she uses the simple future is in her dramatic opening monologue and when she’s trying to reassure Nile. Otherwise, she sticks to going-to construction.

Simple future: “Will this time be the one?”, “Me and those three men in there will keep you safe.”

Going-to future: “And you’re going to help us.”

Andy also typically uses the colloquialism “gonna” when using going-to future construction. When she uses “going to” instead, it’s during moments of sincerity. As mentioned, she also iconically uses them both in the same sentence.

"I knew this was gonna happen", "You think knowing is gonna make you sleep better at night?"

“You’re not a Marine anymore. They’re going to lock you up.”, “When we leave a footprint in the sand, in the snow, in the ether, you’re going to sweep it.”

“You’re going to protect us from those who want to put us in cages, and you’re gonna help us find those jobs that are best suited to us.”

Andy uses the verb “have” and the phrasal verb “have got” interchangeably, and with no real pattern. Important note: I am only referring to the verb “to have” in the present tense, not when "have" is used as an auxiliary. She doesn’t seem to use “have got” in the negative (i.e. “haven’t got” vs “don’t have”).

“We have to find Copley.”, “I have the new one.”

“You’ve got blood in your hair.” “He’s got Joe and Nicky.”

“We don’t have all the answers, but we do have purpose.”

Andy also uses the colloquialism “gotta” in sentences where she uses “have got” with the infinitive “to”. When she does this, she usually uses contracted have/has. Occasionally she drops the auxiliary.

"You’ve gotta feel it, Nile.” "There's gotta be a price."

Andy drops the auxiliary when she says, "We gotta go" instead of “We’ve gotta go” and “Sometimes you gotta work with people you don’t wanna eat with” instead of “Sometimes you’ve gotta..”

Andy uses the colloquialism “wanna” in the place of “want to”.

“Well, sometimes you gotta work with people you don’t wanna eat with.” “You really wanna do this, kid?”

Andy incorrectly uses the object pronoun “me” like a true native English speaker

“Me and those three men in there will keep you safe.”

Andy seems to generally say “Yeah” but she says “Yes” when she really means it. She also says “Mm hmm.”

Andy uses several discourse markers throughout the movie. Discourse markers are words that are used to connect, organize and manage sentences while speaking. Andy uses discourse markers to start sentences, as responses, as interjections, etc. The discourse markers that Andy uses are:

Sentence openers: actually, so, come on, here, look, listen, now, oh, well, you know,

Sentence closers: I guess, maybe, right,

Responses: yeah

Interjections: hey

Connection: to be honest

Andy doesn’t use any fillers. Instead, she pauses and repeats herself as needed.

“Remember what it... what it was like to feel unbreakable.”

Of all the characters, Andy uses the imperative mood the most (throughout the movie Andy tells someone to do something 35 times using this mood)

When Andy repeats herself for emphasis, she usually does it in pairs. The only exception is when she says “why?” three times to Booker in the scene with Copley

Andy uses ellipses, which is when words are omitted from a sentence and the sentence can still be understood. This isn’t particularly noteworthy in what it says about her speech patterns, as everyone uses elliptical construction. It’s just part of how speech works, how dialogue works and how writing works. It’s a feature of English, spoken and written, rather than an anomaly. I do feel it’s worth mentioning though, because I’m going to talk a lot about some specific kinds of ellipses (null subject, null auxiliary and zero copula) that are only found in colloquial and spoken language. For more about elliptical construction, see the Nicky section.

Andy uses noun and verb ellipses when she says, “I’ve been here before... over and over again, and each time the same question.”

Andy uses answer ellipsis. That means that when she answers questions, she often speaks in sentence fragments rather than full sentences.

[Who’s gonna fly the plane?] “We don’t need a pilot” instead of “[Nobody is going to fly the plane.] We don’t need a pilot.”

Andy occasionally uses sentences with a truncated null subject (i.e. she doesn’t use subject pronouns), but not as frequently as the other characters.

“Can’t wait” instead of “I can’t wait.”

Andy frequently uses null auxiliary construction and zero copula when asking questions that normally use subject-auxiliary inversion. This means that she will drop the leading auxiliary verb. For more information about zero copula, see Nile.

Andy uses “You found Copley?” instead of “Have you found Copley?” and “Everyone still with me?” instead of “Is everyone still with me?”

When asking questions, Andy typically uses either the method described above or intonation if she can get away with it. However, she does still ask yes-no questions without dropping the auxiliary. Andy is also one of the only characters to use a disjunctive question. In contrast to the disjunctive (which is often condescending), Andy is also one of the only characters polite enough to use an indirect question.

Intonation: “Joe and Nicky?”

Disjunctive: “You don’t speak Russian, do you?”

Indirect: “Would you like me to take one for you?”

Andy doesn’t use the subordinating conjunction “that” at any point in the movie.

“Last time I checked, you had to be American to be in the CIA” instead of “Last time that I checked...”

Andy says “What the...” when she’s confused.

Andy makes a humming sound when she’s pleased that’s transcribed as “Mmm!”. Interesting to note that every time she makes this sound, it’s in response to Nicky.

Profanity used by Andy: asshole, fuck, goddamn, motherfucker, shit, shitty

Phrases, idioms and expressions used by Andy: bend it to [your] will, broke [a promise], changes nothing, come on, do the same, enough of this, for all I care, get some sleep, go big or go home, going out for a bit, gotta go, last time I checked, let’s, next time, now and always, on board, play dead, set up, straight to [something], tie off, to be honest, welcome back, what [he] said, whatever it takes, work out

Unrelated to word count or time spent speaking, Andy says more sentences than any other character. She says more than twice as many sentences as Booker and four times as many sentences as Joe and Nicky. Nile says a little less than 2/3 as many sentences as Andy.

Sentence composition**: 57% of Andy’s sentences are simple sentences, 31% are sentence fragments, 5% are compound sentences, 6% are complex sentences, and 1% are compound-complex sentences.

Languages spoken on-screen: English

Adjectives and adjective phrases appear in 13% of Andy’s sentences. Adverbs and adverb phrases appear in 9% of Andy’s sentences.

Andy is very consistent in her speech. She doesn’t style-shift much and almost exclusively speaks in a colloquial style of Standard American English. There are two exceptions to this: when she was talking to the tourists in Marrakesh, she was overly polite; and when she was dealing with Copley, she enunciated herself far more and was less likely to use contractions. When I say that Andy speaks Standard English, what I mean is that she speaks the dialect of English which has undergone the most regularization and standardization. It’s the one associated with public communication, the one that's used in commerce and government, and the one that has the most institutional support and sanction. Andy is very familiar and comfortable in this dialect, to the point where she even uses common grammar mistakes that native speakers do. Her speech is very casual. I would say that Andy has spent a significant amount of time recently in the United States or Canada, and I also suspect that English is the modern language that she is most comfortable in. I think that Andy has likely spent a lot of time speaking casually with other English native speakers and that her grasp of the language was formed without any kind of formal language training. Andy doesn’t use much descriptive language, and her sentences are typically short and clear. While I think Andy does read a little bit, it’s had very little impact on her speech patterns. I doubt she reads any kind of serious formal writing, or academic works.

Nile

Nile uses every contraction for auxiliary verbs and personal pronouns (e.g. I’m, you’re, it’s, etc). She also uses them with other nouns and names. Nile is very deliberate about contraction usage. For the most part, in casual speech, she uses contractions, although she does use a lack of contractions to express disbelief or for emphasis. Nile also uses a lack of contractions to show condescension or disapproval. When she’s trying to be authoritative, she’s less likely to use contractions. When she wants to make sure she’s understood, she also doesn’t use contractions.

“I am not jumping from a plane!” “You do not listen to her, you listen to me.”

“We are looking for this man. He has killed many of our people and many of yours.”

Nile uses contractions with demonstrative, interrogative, relative and indefinite pronouns. She also uses contractions with "there", "where", “why” and “how.” She uses contractions with negative modal verbs.

Nile doesn’t use the contraction “y’all” in the movie. In fact, she specifically doesn’t use it.

“How are you all in my dreams?”

Nile uses both the simple future and the colloquial going-to future construction at various points in the movie. Like with contractions, Nile is less likely to use colloquialisms when she’s serious or trying to be authoritative. I think it’s especially poignant when she uses it to express bravery (with Booker). Nile always uses the colloquialism “gonna” when using going-to future construction.

Simple future: “I’m the one who will walk out of there, one way or another.”

Going-to future: “People that are gonna worry.”

Nile uses the verb “have” and the phrasal verb “have got” interchangeably, however she has a very strong preference for “have got”

“You have my phone?”

“I got people that love me,” “You got a satellite link?”

Nile also uses the colloquialism “gotta” in sentences where she uses “have got” with the infinitive “to”. When she does this, she always uses null auxiliary construction (see below for more details).

“We gotta get out of here!”

Nile uses the colloquialism “wanna” in the place of “want to”.

“I just really wanna hear my mom’s voice one more time.”

Nile truncates “trying to” as “tryna”.

“I’m tryna save you, man!”

Nile truncates “out of” as “outta”

Nile uses a lot of discourse markers. She uses more discourse markers than any of the other characters, although Booker comes very close. Discourse markers are words that are used to connect, organise and manage sentences while speaking. Nile uses discourse markers to start sentences, as responses, as interjections, etc. The discourse markers that Nile uses are:

Sentence openers: so, well, wait, here, yeah, now

Sentence closers: or something, maybe, you know, okay, man

Interjections: come on, what, no way

Responses: yeah

Nile uses some fillers when speaking, however she doesn’t use them often. The fillers she uses are: uh, yeah

While Nile does occasionally use the imperative mood, she’s far more likely to give commands based on intonation alone, rather than syntax.

Intonation: “You do not listen to her, you listen to me,” “We gotta get out of here!”

Imperative: “Land this plane.”

Nile uses elliptical construction when speaking, which means that when words are omitted from a sentence, the sentence can still be understood. Again, this in and of itself is not very noteworthy, see Nicky for more details.

“South side of Chicago, a million different ways we could’ve went left.”

She also uses answer ellipsis, meaning that when answering questions, she speaks in sentence fragments.

Answer ellipsis: [You have someone?] “Just my family” instead of “[I have] just my family.”

Nile frequently uses null subject elliptical construction. When using null subject construction, she drops personal pronouns.

“Talked to Copley. Said he could fix it.” instead of “I talked to Copley. He said he could fix it.”

Nile’s use of ellipsis is mostly characterized by her usage of null auxiliary, which is when she drops auxiliary verbs from sentences. The way she does this is very distinct and she’s the only character who speaks like this. While the other characters who use null auxiliary construction do so in the specific context of asking questions, Nile’s usage is more complicated.

Like the others, Nile frequently uses null auxiliary construction and zero copula when asking questions that normally use subject-auxiliary inversion, but unlike the others, she also sometimes drops the auxiliary in wh- questions. For more on zero copula, see below.

"You gonna be okay?" "So, you good guys or bad guys?"

“Where you taking me?”

Outside of asking questions, Nile also occasionally uses both null auxiliary construction and the zero copula. She is the only character who does this (Andy does this, but only with one specific word/phrase. Nile's usage is less restrictive). Zero copula is a linguistic phenomena where the subject is joined to the predicate without marking that relationship (i.e. there’s no verb). In English, the main copula is the verb “to be”, so zero copula in English describes situations where inflections of “to be” are omitted. When the characters use null auxiliary construction to omit the inflected forms of “to be” while asking questions, they are using the copula deletion.

In the above example questions, all of them are examples of copula deletion as they are omitting inflections of the verb "to be"

When Nile says “I got people that love me”, she uses null auxiliary construction to omit the auxiliary “have”. Nile always drops the auxiliary “have” when using the “have got” form.

When Nile says “This the shit you into?” she’s actually using the zero copula twice. You’ll notice that she’s missing the leading “is” and in the dependent clause, she’s missing the “are (“Is this the shit you’re into?” in Standard English).

At one point in the movie, Nile includes a further truncated null subject, where she doesn’t use both the subject and the auxiliary verb. Joe does something similar in the present tense.

Nile says “Killed in action when I was eleven” instead of “He was killed in action when I was eleven.”

When asking questions, outside of wh- questions, Nile usually relies on intonation or dropping the auxiliary from subject-auxiliary inversion questions as described above. She does occasionally use inversion for yes/no questions without dropping the auxiliary.

Intonation: “You have my phone?”

Indirect: “So... you’re even older than him.”

As the audience surrogate, Nile asks the most questions in the movie (she asks 69 questions LMAO)

Another way that Nile formalizes her speech is by inserting the subordinating conjunction “that” into sentences where they would normally be omitted.

“And that was a blank that you shot me with.” “But... you said that we were immortal.”

Nile says “Uh uh” to mean “no” or “don’t even think about it”

Phrases, idioms and expressions used by Nile: a little help, backed down, brains of [the] outfit, come on, follow the money, gave [them] up, honest-to-God, how the hell, what kind of [noun], killed in action, let’s go, move on, never hurts to, no way, one more time, one way or another, roger that, sit your ass down, some bullshit, son of a bitch, stay tight, steal away, went left, what’s up (greeting),

Profanity used by Nile: ass, bitch, bullshit, damn, fuck, hell, shit

Sentence composition**: 60% of Nile’s sentences are simple sentences, 30% are sentence fragments, 3% are compound sentences, 6% are complex sentences and 1% are compound-complex sentences.

Adjectives and adjective phrases appear in 18% of Nile’s sentences. Adverbs appear in 4% of her sentences. Nile doesn’t use any adverb phrases.

Languages spoken on-screen: English, Pashto

Of all the characters, Nile’s use of English is the most deliberate. While the others are obviously fluent and capable in English, Nile’s use of style-shifting throughout the movie demonstrates a mastery of the language that the other characters simply don’t have. The way that she shifts between formal and colloquial language for emphasis, for clarity, to express disbelief or disapproval, to act authoritatively, to appear casual and friendly, and to invite others to engage with her, speaks to what she is capable of by her word and syntax choices. All of this is obviously enhanced by her tone, her cadence, her pitch, her volume and her speaking speed.

When Nile speaks, she doesn’t speak in AAVE. That being said, her speech does contain vernacular features. The two elements of Nile’s syntax that are most noticeable are her use of the zero copula and her deletion of “have” in situations where it can be contracted (to clarify: using copula deletion is not necessarily an indicator of AAVE. When the other characters use the zero copula, they are not speaking AAVE. The subtle differences in the context of their usage of copula deletion is what makes Nile’s speech distinctly Black). Some of Nile’s word choices and noun phrases are also reflective of the typical speech of Black people, as pointed out to me by this anon. It’s very likely that Nile can speak AAVE, but doesn’t in the movie. She was raised by two Black parents in a very residentially segregated city, and while Nile didn’t specify the neighborhood she grew up in (you can make some guesses to the general area based on how she talks about it, but that’s not quite the same), Chicago’s South Side is predominantly Black, so the people she was around, the place she attended school and the church she went to were all likely predominantly Black as well. Due to the fact that Standard English is the language taught in public schools in the United States, Nile has obviously also developed a fluency in that dialect as well and can probably code switch between the two dialects. The fact that she doesn’t speak AAVE in the movie isn’t particularly unusual. Society is largely hostile towards Black people speaking AAVE, so language self-policing becomes a survival tool. Nile had also just spent an indefinite amount of time in the US military, which has its own style which has its own style of speaking as well which she would have been using. And then she basically got kidnapped by mostly white people, some of whom have noticeable accents, so having her speak AAVE would’ve been an odd character choice, but not totally implausible.

The way that Nile switches between formal and colloquial English is a type of code switching that I would honestly refer to more as style-shifting. Because she isn’t actually speaking AAVE, I can’t say how the dialect factors into her speech patterns. I think it’s possible that Nile’s ability to style-shift between formal and informal language could have been an ability that she developed as a result of needing to code switch between AAVE and Standard English in an educational environment. I do want to make it very clear however, that when I’m talking about Nile style-shifting, it has very little bearing on the vernacular features of her speech, but rather the colloquial features like contractions, verb choice, ellipsis and her use of phrasal verbs. It’s possible that she uses code switching in the same way, however we don’t have evidence of that in the movie.

Booker

Booker uses most contractions, but not all, and with much less consistency than Andy or deliberate purpose like Nile. He uses contractions for auxiliaries and their inflected forms for personal pronouns. When speaking casually, he uses contractions, but when he’s upset, he uses them far less consistently. He doesn’t use contractions with the past tense inflected form of have (i.e. “had”).

Booker uses contractions with demonstrative, interrogative, relative and indefinite pronouns. He also uses contractions with "there", "where" and “how. He uses contractions with negative modal verbs.

Booker uses both the simple future and the going-to future construction at various points in the movie. He doesn’t seem to have a preference either way.

Simple future: “They will get to learn your secret.”

Going-to future: “It’s gonna take time.”

Booker always uses the colloquialism “gonna” when using going-to future construction.

Booker doesn’t seem to use the phrasal verb “have got” but I could only find one instance of him using the verb “to have” in the present tense, so this isn’t definitive either way. If I had to take a guess, I’d say that, like Andy, he uses “to have” and “have got” interchangeably.

Even though Booker speaks less than Nile and Andy, he uses close to the same amount of discourse markers as them, meaning that they appear far more regularly in his speech. Discourse markers are words that are used to connect, organize and manage sentences while speaking. Booker uses discourse markers to start sentences, as responses, as interjections, etc. The discourse markers he uses are:

Sentence openers: come on, hey, oh, well, listen, I mean, ooh (expressing pleasure), yeah

Sentence closers: right, of course

Responses: yeah, alright

Interjections: hey, ow! (expressing victory)

Connections: by the way, tell you what

Of all the characters, Booker uses the most fillers when speaking. The fillers that he uses are: oh, uh, um, yeah

Booker pauses and repeats himself as needed. He only does this when he’s upset. Otherwise, he seems to use fillers instead.

“Everyone you love is gonna... is gonna suffer and is gonna die."

When Booker repeats himself for emphasis, he always does it in pairs.

Booker often uses elliptical construction, and the most frequent type seems to be null auxiliary construction. He does use other types of ellipses though (For more about ellipsis, see Nicky).

“Just because we keep living doesn’t mean we stop hurting.”

Booker uses answer ellipsis, but almost to the point of incomprehensibility. Dude just gives the bare minimum. That means that when he answers questions, he speaks in sentence fragments rather than full sentences.

Answer ellipsis: [You found Copley?] “Nothing, but dead ends” instead of “[I found] nothing but dead ends.”

Booker frequently uses sentences with a truncated null subject (i.e. he doesn’t use subject pronouns).

“Lost the plot after that” instead of “I lost the plot after that”

Booker frequently uses null auxiliary construction and zero copula when asking questions that normally use subject-auxiliary inversion. For more information about zero copula, see Nile.

Booker says “You good?” instead of “Are you good?” and “You have someone?” instead of “Do you have someone?”

When asking questions, Booker almost always uses either the method described above, or intonation. The only time Booker asks a question without dropping the auxiliary is when he says “Are you all right, boss?” to Andy in the cave.

Intonation: “Oh, she gave it back?”

Booker doesn’t generally use the subordinating clause “that,” but he will sometimes.

“What I do know is she was alone for a long time before she found anyone like her.”

“And they will tell you... that you don’t love them.”

At two separate points in the movie, Booker references Elizabethan literature. “Misery loves company” is from Dr. Faustus by Marlowe and “That way madness lies” is from King Lear by Shakespeare

Phrases, expressions and idioms used by Booker: all in, by the way, calm down, change of clothes, come on, dead ends, give [her] time, give me your hand, how’s it going?, I’ll see you soon, in the open, leave no footprints, let’s go, lost the plot, moving out, misery loves company, reach out, stick to the plan, take time, tell you what, what’s going on, won’t hurt

Profanity used by Booker: shit, putain de merde

Sentence composition**: 59% of Booker’s sentences are simple sentences, 24% are sentence fragments, 3% are compound sentences, 9% are complex sentences, 1% are compound-complex sentences and 4% are not in English

Adjectives and adjective phrases appear in 16% of Booker’s sentences. Adverbs and adverb phrases appear in 8% of Booker’s sentences.

Languages spoken on-screen: English, French, Italian

We know from Booker’s backstory that he’s French and he’s from Marseilles, and other people have spoken about how Booker’s native language would likely have been Occitan, although he speaks French as well. Like Andy, Joe and Nicky, English is not Booker’s native language, although he does speak it with a high degree of fluency. While there are aspects of Booker’s speech that are more related to him being a non-native English speaker, I wanted to talk about French first. It’s worth noting that French is the only Romance language that isn't a null subject language (and as far as I can tell, Occitan isn’t either). This means that when Booker uses null subject construction, that’s either something he picked up from another language or from being around people speaking colloquial English. The thing that stands out to me the most about Booker’s speech though, is actually the way he uses intonation (and to a certain extent, null auxiliary construction as well) when asking questions. While French can use subject-auxiliary inversion, for the most part, you just ask questions by intonation. In the French dub of the movie when Booker asks “You travel?” he says “T’as voyagé?” which in English directly translates to “You travelled?” or “You’ve travelled?” While I could get into semantics about verb tenses, do-support and modality, what I’m getting at here is that both “You travel?” and “T’as voyagé?” mean the same thing and are expressed in a form that feels semantically similar to me even if it’s not syntactically similar, in the same way that ending a question with the tag “right?” (which Booker uses a lot) feels the same as the tag “non?”

There are a couple of things that I think are interesting about Booker’s manner of speech. Booker primarily speaks in simple and fragmented sentences, which is pretty normal, but what’s different about him is the way that a lot of his speech is referential. What I mean is that Booker relies on a lot of common phrases, common clauses, clichés and quotations when he speaks. In a lot of ways, Booker speaks the way your typical action hero is supposed to. You get a sense of Booker engaging in a broader cultural and literary conversation. I don’t know how to explain this exactly, but when Booker speaks, you just know he reads and that he watches tv and movies. And not just that, but that he borrows and imitates aspects of what he reads. But besides the pragmatic element of Booker’s speech, all of the things that are notable about Booker’s speech are things that you also see in Andy, Joe and Nicky. Syntactically, there’s nothing about Booker’s speech that is distinctly unique to him, unlike the rest of the characters who all have their own little quirks. It’s almost like Booker is imitating the others, or borrowing someone else’s words. There is one notable exception, and that’s when Booker is talking to Nile in the cave. As the conversation goes on, you see this breakdown of Booker’s language as he attempts to tell his own story. Suddenly, a lot of the conventions established about Booker’s speech prior to this scene don’t apply. Obviously there are multiple explanations for this, ranging from English not being his first language to the fact that he was talking about something deeply personal and traumatizing to someone who was essentially a stranger. But what makes this scene stand out is the fact that in his next major scene, Booker is clearly on the verge of a full breakdown, but because he’s again relying on this established lexicon, you don’t see it reflected in his speech the same way that it is in the cave.

Joe

When Joe bothers with personal pronouns, he usually uses contractions with auxiliary verbs (e.g. I’m, she’s, it’s, etc). The exception to this is that Joe doesn’t use contractions with the past tense inflected auxiliary form of have (i.e. “had”).

Joe uses contractions with demonstrative, interrogative, relative and indefinite pronouns. He also uses contractions with "there". He uses contractions with negative modal verbs.

Joe only uses a future tense once in the entire film, and when he does, he uses going-to future construction. When he uses going-to future construction he uses the colloquialism “gonna"

“What are you gonna do?”

Joe doesn’t use the colloquial “have got” and always uses “to have”.

“We have to find her”, “Well, now you have even more.”

This may be because Joe isn’t in the movie as much as the first three, or that he just genuinely doesn't use them often, but he uses considerably fewer discourse markers. Discourse markers are words that are used to connect, organize and manage sentences while speaking. Joe uses discourse markers to start sentences, and as interjections. The discourse markers that Joe uses are:

Sentence openers: oh, so, well, yeah

Interjections: hey, what

After Booker, Joe uses the second most amount of fillers. He uses more fillers when having a back-and-forth style conversation with someone than when he’s essentially monologuing. The fillers that Joe uses are: mmm, uh

Joe sometimes uses ellipses when speaking. Again, not super noteworthy, but I wanted to mention it nonetheless.

“He’s the moon when I’m lost in darkness and warmth when I shiver in cold.”

Joe uses answer ellipsis in the movie, but he doesn’t actually speak in sentence fragments when he does this. While answer ellipsis is pretty standard in English, Joe’s commitment to saying more than was asked of him isn’t.

[So... you’re even older than him.] “Nicky and I met in the Crusades.” instead of “[Yes, we are.] Nicky and I met in the Crusades.”

Joe uses sentences with a null subject (i.e. he doesn’t use subject pronouns).

“Depends on the century.” “Fought thousands of battles side by side.”

Joe uses sentences which have both a null subject and uses copula deletion. See Nile for more details on zero copula.

“Very pissed off.” “Faster than the elevator.”

In the movie, Joe only really asks wh- questions. He does ask a few using intonation, although most of those questions act more like additional tags on a wh-question, rather than a question by itself. As such, it's unclear whether Joe uses null auxiliary construction or the zero copula when asking questions.

Intonation: "Bedhead?” “So we just leave her out in the open?”

When Joe repeats himself for emphasis, it’s usually in groups of three.

Joe says “what” when he doesn’t hear something/doesn’t understand something

As previously mentioned, Joe uses some formal words like "thus" and the impersonal pronoun "one". Here are some other words to consider having Joe use unironically as well: alas, amidst, await, behest, ergo, hence, latter, much, nor, notwithstanding, promptly, quite, shall (modal), thence, thereupon, thoroughly, whereas, whom (used correctly of course), yield

Even though Joe speaks quite formally a lot of the time, he never uses the subordinating conjunction “that” when it can be omitted.

“The first immortal Andy found.”

Phrases, expressions and idioms used by Joe: all in, attention to detail, come on, I guess, out in the open, measure and reason, over a [time period], piece of shit, proved [their] case, side by side, way back

Profanity used by Joe: goddamnit, shit

Unrelated to word count or time spent speaking, Joe says the least amount of sentences out of the five main characters, although this doesn’t mean very much, considering Nicky says exactly one more sentence than him.

Sentence composition**: 57% of Joe’s sentences are simple sentences, 21% are sentence fragments, 5% are compound sentences, 4% are complex sentences, 4% are compound complex sentences and 9% are not in English.

Adjectives and adjective phrases appear in 29% of Joe’s sentences. Adverbs and adverb phrases appear in 8% of Joe’s sentences.

Languages spoken on-screen: English, Italian

The best way to describe Joe’s manner of speaking is that it’s like he has two different styles. You get the sense that sometimes Joe just says whatever and sometimes he says something that he’s rehearsed in his head. Joe is a Maghrebi Muslim man from the Islamic Golden Age so he comes from a culture and time with a rich history of and respect for both written and spoken poetry, both impromptu and memorized. I think he carries that tradition quite well. When Joe is orating (van speech and Quynh backstory), his sentences are much more structured and he uses more formal language. He doesn't speak in sentence fragments, he doesn't use any colloquial language besides contractions and he doesn't use discourse markers or fillers like he does in the more casual back-and-forth conversations. If you look at Joe's sentence composition percentages, you'll notice that Joe has comparatively less sentence fragments than other characters and that’s purely because when he orates, it's in full sentences (minus poetic ellipsis, but that's allowed). That's why it seems to me as though Joe rehearses some of what he says in advance. I don’t know the extent to which he does that, but at the very least it seems like he’s sat down and thought “how would I explain Quynh to the new immortal?” or “What would I say to someone belittling my relationship with Nicky?” Even in the delivery of the line “Faster than the elevator” there is quite a long pause between him seeing that Nile jumped out a window and actually making the joke, as if he’s thinking about it first. The majority of the sentences Joe says are in the van speech and while telling Quynh’s backstory. In casual conversations, Nicky seems to take the lead more than Joe.

I’d also speculate that Joe is quite literate. Obviously there’s his own affinity for storytelling and oration, but his use of language hints at a larger vocabulary. You see him use a frequently neglected pronoun in English and a relatively formal adverb. He also uses adjectives like “grotesque” and “infantile”. He does end sentences while prepositions though, so he obviously does not give a fuck about John Dryden and Joshua Poole. That being said, I think the idea of rearranging Joe’s sentences so they don’t end in prepositions is funny and fits his whole vibe.

Joe uses null subject construction in English, and while that’s pretty common in everyday speech in English, it is worth noting that both Italian and Arabic are null subject languages. The way that Joe uses null construction in English is far more similar to Italian than Arabic, which requires a change in sentence sequencing but I still think it’s neat. The thing that Arabic brings to the table that I’m more intrigued by is the fact that it’s a zero copula language. It’s not a matter of copula deletion like AAVE, there straight up is not a copula in the present tense, so the lack of a verb (and specific sentence sequencing) is the copula in the present tense. When Joe drops both subject and verb in the present tense he is, in effect, simulating a similar situation due to the ambiguity of the sentences themselves where the only way you can correctly interpret the sentence is by understanding that the missing verb must be a copula. He gets rid of a subject pronoun as a shout out to Italian, I guess, but also because it would sound so silly if he didn’t. I don’t think Joe necessarily picked up this habit from Arabic, but I do think it’s a fun coincidence.

Nicky

Of all the characters, Nicky has the least consistent contraction usage for personal pronouns and auxiliaries (e.g. I’ve, you’re, it’s, etc). There are examples throughout the film of him using a contraction and then in the next scene he just doesn’t. Unlike with the other characters, who have a discernable pattern (Andy always uses contractions, Nile uses contractions for dramatic emphasis, Booker becomes more inconsistent with contractions when upset, Joe doesn’t use contractions in certain tenses), Nicky is totally random in his contraction usage.

My personal favourite example of this is: “She’s more alone than she has ever been in her entire life.”

Nicky uses contractions with demonstrative, interrogative, relative and indefinite pronouns, however this usage is just as inconsistent as with personal pronouns. He also uses contractions with "there.” He uses contractions with negative modal verbs.

Outside of contractions, Nicky doesn't seem to use colloquialisms in the movie.

Nicky doesn’t use the colloquial going-to future construction and relies on simple future construction

“You will not be able to give him what he wants”, “If it’s now Andromache’s, nothing you do will stop it.

Nicky doesn’t use the colloquial phrasal verb “have got” and instead uses “have”

“I have something for you”

Nicky only has a few discourse markers in the movie. Discourse markers are words that are used to connect, organise and manage sentences while speaking. Nicky uses discourse markers to start sentences, as interjections and as responses. The discourse markers that he uses are:

Sentence openers: so

Interjections: hey, wait, what

Responses: yeah

Nicky doesn’t use any fillers. Instead, he pauses and repeats himself as needed.

"I believe it's because we... we are meant to find each other"

In my other post, I mentioned that Nicky speaks in full sentences, and while that is mostly true, it’s a bit of an oversimplification. While that kind of a statement is fine for an overview post, I felt it would be disingenuous to leave it at that. Nicky speaks in sentence fragments just like everyone else. In fact, he speaks in sentence fragments more than Joe does. He uses ellipsis, but the way he does it is functionally different from the specific methods of null subject, null auxiliary and zero copula that I’ve talked about with the other characters. While the others are quite formulaic about their usage of ellipses, Nicky’s is far more nebulous because it’s very much dependent on context.

Nicky uses answer ellipses, like the others.

[Bedhead?] “Nicely tousled.”

The next way that Nicky uses ellipses might better be described as anaphora. That means when he’s eliding words, the omitted words in the sentence can be found through the context of the sentence preceding it.

The sentence “The only reason we haven’t... is that it’s not our time yet” is missing a past participle. The missing verb is found in the previous sentence: “Everything has to die, Mr. Merrick.”

In fact, almost all of Nicky’s use of sentence fragments and ellipses can most easily be characterized this way. If the sentence that Nicky says is incomplete in some way by itself, that’s usually because he’s referring to something either he, or someone else, has said. In some cases, it’s as if he’s continuing or adding additional information to the sentence preceding it.

“We killed each other.” “Many times.”

“It was a woman. A Black woman.”

Another way of characterizing some of his use of ellipses is to imagine he’s using answer ellipsis to a question nobody asked him.

[What did you see?] “Dirt floor, clay walls.”

In one particular instance, Nicky says the noun phrase “A fine justification.” It’s already an example of anaphora, as it is referring back to Kozak’s “I believe this can change the world.” Nicky’s sentence bears some similarity to Joe’s “Faster than the elevator” as it’s also an example of a sentence which is missing both verb and subject, however when Joe uses this kind of construction, he only does so before an adjective phrase. One could extrapolate from this that Nicky uses null subject and zero copula construction with adjective phrases and Joe similarly uses it for noun phrases, but that’s just speculation.

The final way that we see Nicky use ellipsis is honestly the most baffling and I’m still not entirely sure how to best explain it. The sentence is “Spend eternity in a cage.” It is clearly not the imperative mood, it wouldn't make sense for Nicky to be telling Nile to spend eternity in a cage. Unlike the other examples of Nicky’s use of ellipsis, the preceding sentence (“That’s the reason we dread capture”) provides context but not specific form. Breaking it down from an English language perspective, the only thing that makes sense to me is that “spend” is actually the infinitive phrase “to spend” where the infinitive "to" has been elided and there is an implied “[We are afraid][to] spend eternity in a cage.” I want to be clear here: I understand this sentence. I know what Nicky is saying, I simply have no idea why I know what he's saying. I don't understand why this sentence works. For further theories, look at the section on sociolinguistics at the bottom.

Sometimes Nicky adds unnecessary pronouns to a sentence.

“But then, Andy and Quynh, they were accused of witchcraft themselves and they were trapped and caught.”

Nicky does use the subordinating conjunction “that” but there are also times when he doesn’t. The common Nicky pattern of *shrug*

“The only reason we haven’t... is that it’s not our time yet”

“As much as I like watching you sleep, I’m glad you’re awake.”

When Nicky asks questions, he doesn’t use any kind of null auxiliary construction or zero copula for subject-auxiliary inversion questions. Nicky is also the only other character (after Andy) polite enough to ask indirect questions, and he uses them when talking to people who kidnapped him, which is kind of a power move. Nicky doesn’t seem to use intonation much when asking questions either.

Subject auxiliary inversion (yes/no questions): “Are we too late?” “Are you sure?”

Indirect: “I don’t suppose it would be possible to get these chains off of us?”

Intonation: “Nile?”

Phrases, expressions and idioms used by Nicky: as much, cast off, do you know, get some rest, getting away, I suppose/don’t suppose, judge of character, love of my life,

Sentence composition**: 47% of Nicky’s sentences are simple sentences, 24% are sentence fragments, 3% are compound sentences, 15% are complex sentences, 2% are compound complex and 9% are not in English.

Adjectives and adjective phrases appear in 23% of Nicky’s sentences. Adverbs appear in 6% of Nicky’s sentences. Nicky doesn’t use adverb phrases.

Languages: English, Italian, Nuer

Before I start this, I want to say that despite having a strong accent, I think Nicky is quite proficient in English. He knows the subtle differences between words like “unethical” and “immoral,” he’s aware of and capable of using expressions with irregular syntax and he uses sophisticated linguistic phenomena in English. He uses so many complex sentences it makes my head spin. Leaving all that aside, I think that Nicky probably translates from Italian into English while speaking. Like Nile, Nicky is very deliberate about his language but in a different way. While Nile uses style-shifting to accomplish a number of different things, Nicky is primarily concerned with clarity. I think that Nicky’s tendency towards more formal language is a kind of overcompensation to make sure that he’s being understood. Another thing worth noting is that I think Nicky has actively studied language before, in a class setting or by himself, and has at least some knowledge of linguistics (specifically syntax). At the very least, he is knowledgeable about both Italian and English syntax.

This theory is largely based around the idea of overcompensation. Nicky is primarily concerned with the clarity of speech and because of that, he doubles-down on grammar and structure. Italian is a null subject language so you actually see Nicky use null subject construction when he says “Sono qui” and “Dovremmo tonarci” but you don’t see anything similar in the way that he speaks English even though all the other characters frequently rely on truncated null subjects. He demonstrates a clear awareness of the standard language restrictions of English and how that compares to the restrictions of Italian. And not just that: there’s actually an example in the movie where Nicky adds an extra and unnecessary pronoun in English. In another sentence, Nicky could have used a contraction on two separate instances and deliberately only contracted one of them because the contractions were two different tenses. For the most part, this overcompensation makes it so Nicky’s speech—while unconventional—is still grammatically correct. That’s how you get things like Nicky saying, “The love of my life was of the people I’ve been taught to hate,” which isn’t how most native-speakers would intuitively phrase it themselves and as a result, a further layer of nuance is added by the use of the Present Perfect Continuous. Despite the fact that Nicky uses some unconventional phrasing in English, he doesn’t seem particularly bothered by it or concerned about it. He’s more than willing to experiment with his speech and seems very confident in it as well. That’s why I think he has some kind of formal language training with English, because he clearly understands the system that he’s working with but is less aware of some of the common ways of speaking. I seriously doubt that Joe and Nicky spend much time speaking to each other in English.

Another point that I think is worth mentioning: while Joe seems to thrive while orating and speaks relatively simply otherwise, Nicky is the exact opposite. Nicky’s language capabilities are on full display when he’s engaging in discourse, but when he’s telling Nile about Quynh, you see a lot more irregular syntax structure from him. It’s during this discussion that you hear the line “Spend eternity in a cage,” that I’ve struggled with above. The other possible explanation for the use of this unconventional sentence construction was actually given to me by @rhubarbdreams, who said that the sentence actually makes more sense syntactically in Italian, which has an impersonal imperative. In fact, in the Italian dub, that’s allegedly what it does (“per non passare l'eternità in una gabbia.”) Whether Nicky’s apparent tendency towards unconventional speech in this circumstance is a chronic tendency from overthinking while speaking English or a result of the specific topic they were discussing is up for personal interpretation, although I do think it’s interesting that Nicky was the one primarily leading conversation up until Joe took over specifically when they were recounting a story. I think this is especially interesting considering Nicky was apparently a priest, however this might just be a limitation to him in languages he doesn’t use as often.

Bonus: Quynh

Quynh doesn’t have that many lines, so it’s not really possible to do any kind of meaningful analysis about her speech patterns (she says 16 sentences and 10 of those are screaming “no” or someone’s name). That being said, I do want to look at all the lines she presumably said in English (I’m ignoring Lykon’s death scene because if Lykon really did die in the 6th or 7th century, then they absolutely weren’t speaking Modern English, you know?)

So first we have the lines from the witch trials:

“I’ve never been burned alive before. What do you think it’s gonna be like?”

“Just you and me.”

Okay so obviously there’s some ambiguity over exactly when this happened, since Joe said 500 years in a box and TOGTH lists it happening around 1750. In the comics, Noriko fell overboard around 1590. I simply think the 1750 date is incorrect based on when people were being burned at the stake for witchcraft and heresy. I could talk more about that and my own headcanons about when it happened, but this is a post about linguistics, so what’s important to take from all this is that it probably took place at the earliest sometime in the late 15th century and, at the latest, the very beginning of the 17th century.

Taking all that into consideration, I can say almost certainly that all of Quynh’s lines are some kind of misremembered modern translation of what she actually said. She uses two contractions (I’ve and it’s) that were maybe in use, but likely uncommon. “It’s” was used, although you would be far more likely to see its counterpart “tis”, and contractions with “have” and “had” were only becoming common towards the end of the 16th century. There’s also the problem of the pronoun “you” and how singular “you” would not have been used in this informal context. And since “you” should be the singular “thou”, the archaic singular second-person conjugation of “do” would instead be correct. And finally: going-to future construction may have been used at the time (I can’t speak to the commonality of it), but I honestly can’t say with any certainty whether the colloquial “gonna” was in use. The first recorded use seems to be the 19th century. I’m sure there are other things that are anachronistic about the speech but I don’t know enough about Early Modern English morphology and syntax to speculate any more about it.

So yeah, Andy and Quynh’s conversation is either Andy’s misremembering of it in Modern English, it was never in English in the first place like the other scene, or just Hollywood movie magic for the viewers (I would love to see someone attempt to translate it back into Early Modern English though, I’m just saying).

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

The one line that I feel has legitimate value in the analysis of Quynh’s speech patterns in English is the final one that she says to Booker. She’s using ME, obviously, with its contractions and singular “you.” She’s also using a modified idiom, “Nice to meet you”, which is interesting because that absolutely wouldn’t have been used when she went under water considering the word “nice” was derogatory at the time. All of this implies to me that Quynh has definitely spent time on land before she finds Booker. Also she split the infinitive ("to meet"). I don't know what that says about her speech, but I sure am looking at it.

Fun Quynh fact: of the 6 times that Andy’s full name is used in the movie, half of them are said by Quynh

**A note on sentence composition: I intentionally didn't go into detail about sentence composition outside of brief mentions. If any of you are curious about it, you can ask. I'm more than willing to discuss sentence clause structure, but I didn't want this to become even longer and more convoluted than it already is. Part of why I’m reluctant to give it any weight here is because of how lenient I was with what was considered a sentence fragment vs. a simple sentence, as the characters are speaking colloquial English. A movie isn’t formal writing and to evaluate dialogue by that same metric is silly. Also, I considered interjections sentence fragments to start and then realized halfway through that that was a bad idea and they should have had their own separate section, but at that point I was in too deep, and didn’t want to go back and do it all again. In the same way, there are sentences that I considered compound or complex sentences, but that “technically” aren’t because a lot of characters drop pronominal subjects and like. Officially you can’t have null subject clauses in English, because that’s not how the language works on paper (imperative mood aside). Or they elided part of the sentence so that technically it's not a clause. But people don’t actually care about stuff like that when they talk. Also I may have messed up a few times, because complex sentences are hard and sometimes I get phrases and clauses confused. It can be difficult to tell when there’s a lot happening, you know? (this is about Nicky. Sir, why do you talk like that)

If you’re a fanfic writer, I’m going to advise that you take the part about sentence composition with a grain of salt or ignore it entirely, unless you’re already familiar with sentence clause structure in English. It will not be helpful to you for writing character dialogue until you’ve actually put in the work to understand it and practice. As mentioned, I still mess it up sometimes if a sentence has too many phrases. Basically, if you think too hard about it, I guarantee it’ll stress you out.

#the old guard #andromache the scythian #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #nile freeman #sebastien le livre #quynh #tog meta #tog linguistics #long post #like reallyyyyyyy long #it's around 9.5k words #anyway i'm really excited to chare this with everyone!!#i've been working very hard on it #also in terms of formatting i like how it looks on ao3 much more than here so that's how i would recommend viewing it

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luimagines · 3 years

Text

He Accidentally Hurt You pt.2

Masterlist

Set platonically and within the group Part 1

Hyrule

Your blood was pounding as your feet carried you across the battle field.

Your hearing was rendered useless by the cause, you only thoughts were on Hyrule and getting to him before the hoard of monsters did. He had somehow gotten separated from the group in the struggle and was left to fend for himself.

You made contact.

The sword in your hand followed through your practiced movements, slicing all and any between you and your target.

You could hear him in the distance, you were close, you just had to get- just a little-

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and the air changed. The split second static was your only warning before lightning struck.

Monsters fell all around you but you failed to pay attention to that. Your attention was instead on the blinding, scalding twist in your arm that held your trusted blade. You couldn’t even find it in you to let go of the weapon, your muscles incapable to receiving orders.

The pain traveled through your arm and across your chest until it encompassed your whole being.

Screams tore through your throat without your knowledge and when the attack subsided, your whole body went rag doll and your vision went black.

“Please. Please. Please.” A voice whispered through the darkness. It was soft. Pleading. A blessed chill seemed deep into your bones and you found it within yourself to open your eyes.

Hyrule was crouched above you, tears in his eyes with shallow cuts across his tunic and exposed skin. Not a lot of blood though, your brain supplies. You take a relieved breath.

“Hey.” You croaked out in greeting. “Glad to see you’re ok. I was worried.”

“I didn’t know you were there.” He blurts as if he didn’t hear you. Maybe he didn’t. “I thought it was only monsters nearby. I don’t think I have enough magic to heal you completely. This is all my fault.”

“Fault?” You attempted to sit up. You succeed. Mostly.

A grunt leaves your mouth at the stiffness in your joints and you force yourself to power though to reach into your inventory.

A sniffle leaves your Traveler when you push his hands away when you find your target. The red liquid glints in the dying sunlight and you hand it out to him. “Think you can open it?”

He nods and pry's it open before you can even think about getting into a better sitting position.

You don’t think twice about taking the potion when he hands it back.

“Save your magic.” You say. “I’ll be fine.”

And you know you’re right....It’ll take a little more than that to convince the rest of the group when you get back though. Hyrule plans to smother you until not a single blemish is left. The others? Well... They’ll keep an eye on you.

Twilight

“Ten rupees says you can’t make that throw.” You hear Warriors say.

“Double it and I’ll gladly prove you wrong.” Twilight responds.

The book in your lap calls for attention more than whatever those two are doing for the sake of friendly competition. You don’t look up, trying to keep your eyes on the page but you can’t help the growing curiosity in the back of your head.

“What are we using to aim with?”

“That?”

“Sure.”

You roll your eyes and keep your head down.

“I’ll be twenty rupees richer and it’ll shut your mouth. Just watch.” Twilight grumbles.

There’s a tap and a growl before something comes at your head full throttle. It’s dense but not enough to keep it from exploding all into your hair and it knocks you over slightly.

You closed your book to protect it from the falling matter and reach at the spot. By your feet laying the offending object.

An apple.

They threw an apple at your head. Correction. Twilight threw an apple at your head.

The thoughts in your head spin a bit. Your whole head is throbbing but you doubt there’s any blood. You look up just in time to see Warrior and Twilight running at you as fast as they can. Twilight reaches you first and kneels next to you. “By Ordana, are you ok?”

His hands hover over you, trying to take in the damage without actually touching you.

“Who are you?” You blurt out, very quickly realizing that it was the wrong thing to say.

His face drops and Warrior wears a similar expression.

“Kidding.” A pained grin covers your face. “Take me to Hyrule please.”

“I’m so sorry.” Twilight reaches for you and you comply. Once you’re on your feet he speaks again. “Warrior messed up my shot and it hit you by accident.”

“That’s a weird way to say you lost a bet.”

You kick Warrior as payback.

Sky

“So...” You sit next to Sky during the break. “What are you planning to make this time?”

The boy next to you already had his whittling knife out and a decent sized chunk of wood in his lap. He picked it up and spun it a few times, staring into it as if he could already see the form inside it. It was just his job to take it out.

“I don’t know yet.” He admits. “Maybe it’ll come to me.”

You nod and let him work in relative silence, the faint but consistent sounds of Sky working next to you create a blissful and serene atmosphere.

The others are off doing their own thing, each keeping to themselves for the most part.

It’s nice.

“Actually, can you help me with this real quick?”

Your attention is back on Sky. He’s trying to get his knife out of the wood block, the outline of the shape he’s making already starting to form.

You don’t recognize it.

Sky picks up the knife and the whole block follows. “It got stuck.”

“How?�� You raise an eyebrow and try to keep the smile off of your face.

Your response is only a shrug and the wood being thrust in your direction.

You grab it and instinctively tighten your grip on it when you feel Sky pull.

You both use your strengths to your advantage and pull in different directions. You feel the knife begin to slip out and adjust your grip. Within seconds the blade is free and you feel it cross the tip of your finger.

Instantly, the wood is dropped and you cradle your hand close to you, putting pressure on the injured digit.

“Ok, got it, thank- What happened?” Sky scoots closer to you and pulls your hands out.

A thin red line follows the length of your finger and it only seems to grow as the moments pass. It doesn’t feel deep but it certainly won’t let you flex your finger for a while.

A quite hiss leaves Sky’s lips. “Well that could’ve gone better. Sorry about that.”

“It could’ve gone worse too.” You press a little on the injury, trying to will the pain away.

It doesn’t work, but hey, you try.

“Hold on. I think I have some bandages in my pack.” Sky gets up and jogs to where most of the others are sitting. He picks up his bag and looks inside for a minute or two before jogging back to you.

A small role of bandages sits in his hand and when he reach for your hand, you don’t hesitate to give it to him.

As he’s working on your finger, you feel mild irritation bubble up in your throat. “This better not scar.”

“Why’s that?” Sky replies.

“It’ll be the lamest story.”

He laughs and finishes his work.

Time

Sometimes it surprised you how short everyone in the group was. You weren’t sure if it was a Link thing or one of the biggest coincidences of the universe because it certainly wasn’t just because they were Hylian (but that probably didn’t help).

That being said, and what you could gather from The Captain, it boggled your mind further that Time was the biggest of everyone. Warrior made it seem like he’d stay small forever, implying that Time was smaller still when he first defeated Gannon.

That didn’t seem very fair.

For him and you....well everyone, only Twilight and Warrior were the ones exempt from having to look up at the old man. But you didn’t like the idea of someone so small fighting such a beast, so Time is included in your sympathy list.

Despite his size, he seemed to move as silent as a mouse. Only Wild would be quieter than him.

After some time of traveling with them all, you realized he was just as much as a gremlin as the rest.

He was not above pranking the living daylights out of poor unsuspecting teenagers.

And the thing is, no one could catch him. Somehow he managed to get them to in the blame on each other but you knew better. You swore it had to be him. There was no way. There was no way he could count as a Link and not get into this kind of stuff.

But no one believed you.

It definitely wasn’t fair.

With the stage set, it’s safe to say now that you were calmly, peacefully and quietly minding your own business. You weren’t bothering anyone.

You were writing in your journal under a tree with some low branches. Nothing too bad but in terms of shade and angle, you found it to be the perfect resting place.

You took a deep breath in and let it out.

Yes, it was nice.

“BOO!”

You jumped as high as your reflexes you take you and spun around, but you had forgotten where you were in the moment.

With a solid thunk, your head hit the branch above you and sat back down, with a curse.

While there was laughter in the your reaction, it was cut off abruptly at the first sign of pain. “Oh jeeze, I’m sorry. How bad does it hurt?”

A whimper escaped your mouth before you could stop it and you closed your journal, choosing to furiously rub your hands against the now tender spot on the top of your head. “Ow Time. Why did you do that?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d move like that.” He moved your hands away and inspected the area for himself. “No bleeding. Doesn’t look like it’ll need a potion...”

“I blame you.” You grumbled. “This is your fault.”

“I can accept that.” He nodded and stepped back. “There’s not much we can do about it in terms of healing, but perhaps Hyrule would be willing to lend a hand.”

“No way. He’d ask how it happened and I’m not going to lie to him.” You pouted. “No one will believe me if I told them the truth.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s you!” You glared at him.

A tiny giggle escaped from the so called Old Man of the group, Mr. Stick in the Mud. Senor Buzzkill. “And why would that make a difference?”

“I cannot believe you... Actually yes I can, you were doing this on purpose the whole time.”

He laughed more fully this time and didn’t seem to let up.

With a pout, you picked up your book and marched away.

One day you’ll get back at him. You just had to figure out how and when.

Four

“So, how do we play this game again?” You picked up the ball one of your companions took out. It was almost the size of your head and had crisscrossing lines. It was white and weighed less than you originally thought.

It was a relatively slow day and no one felt in the mood to dampen it by looking for trouble.

While Twilight and Warrior set up the net that was supposed to go with it, the rest were waiting and going over the rules.

“Just hit the ball over the net. You can’t the ball twice in a row, someone else has to hit it and if it touches the ground you lose the point.”

“Seems simple enough.” Wild takes the ball from you and tosses it a few times.

It takes a while for all the appropriate moves to be demonstrated but you all play the game with ease.

You were having a good time with your friends. Everyone was actually getting along for a change. With a smile on your face, you waited for the moment that would inevitably change.

You swore you could almost pin point when it happened.

With Four right across from you, his sudden change in stance gave away the glint in his eyes.

The ball came to him and he jumped up, higher than you thought he could and spiked.

Next thing you knew, you were on the ground, stunned and slightly disoriented and your face was hurting.

Four ran to your side as the game was halted. “That... was not what I was intending.”

“You don’t say... Can I step out for a minute?” You asked, trying to get your feet. Four helped you get away from the battle field- I mean, the game area and helped you sit back down against a nearby tree.

“Sorry about that.” He smiled apologetically. “Anything I can do to help?”

You looked up at him hopefully. “Lose the game?”

“Not a chance.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader

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the-art-of-animated-gifs · 3 years

Photo

Interview with my friend A.L. Crego

I have not met A.L. Crego. I have not spoken with him on the phone, in fact I do not even know what he looks like. But I can confidently call him my friend. Three years ago when I started this blog he immediately disagreed with me in the comments about things I was writing and I loved it. As a person putting ideas out there, you treasure things like that....because you know someone cares. We have had many back and forth discussions over the years....if we had lived in Paris in 1911 we would be having arguments at La Rotonde (not to compare either of us to Picasso).

A.L. Crego is a motion artist who does a wide variety of things. He has now become a very visible and active figure in the NFT Movement. He recently completed a large and very successful project in which he animated the work of a number of well know street artists on the building themselves, something he has done for years. His Tumblr page is a good place to start to see his work, which is largely surrealist in nature -- another Spanish artist following in the footsteps of other great Spanish surrealist artists.

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How long have you been creating gif art?

In a conscious and intentional way since 2014. Previously I haven't pay too much attention on one hand for its common use that was mostly ads and funny little videos, and on the other hand because it was a 'standard' format we accepted as something part of the web so I never stopped to analyze its potential. The key point for me was about 2010-2011 when the concept of 'Cinemagraph' was brought to life just giving it a name. It's format is .gif but its characteristics are different so I saw there the midpoint between photography and video, which gave born another format of art.

Art mutates when a new format appears. I was using and studying this format since then but it wasn't until 2014 that I decided to publish some of them.

What is your background?

In general terms, bachelor, 2 years of stone sculpting and two attempts of photography and audiovisual mediums. I say attempts because I gave up both of them as I was feeling that I was looking for something else more than studying all the previous history, style and isms, which is nice to understand where everything comes from and to be aware what are the key points on the history to use as reference, as a map. But in some way I felt limited as I was using digital tools since I had my first computer with 14 years, and I was being taught things I learnt by then. Even more in this times we are living where we are 21 century people, been taught by teachers from the 20 with 19 century methods.

A constant line that feeds my background is literature and music overall and later Street Art, next to more temporal interests as everything related with mythology, alchemy, history, psychology, neurology, biology, human condition in general... I don't have studies buy I'm a studying guy!

I always like to highlight that all these years that internet got strong and social networks appeared, I decided voluntary to be out of them. First reason was to keep my privacy safe in a growing world where it seemed that some "curtain" felt and everybody accepted that intimacy was now 'ex-timacy' and correct to show their private life, (this shocked me). Another reason was about the psychological effect that social networks were having on people I had around and everywhere in general. I started to notice patterns and "waves" about series, aesthetics, styles, and I was seeing clearly that if I go there, I will become permeable to all this "Amniotic Culture" I was trying to avoid.

This fact of being far (but study them closely) helped me a lot about researching and developing my own ideas and style, for the mere fact that I was using all this time and attention Social Networks require, on drinking from another sources. The B-side of this is that I was 'out of the radar' of mass people as this social networks are designed to live inside them. My idea of internet and spreading ideas is not in this way.

Where do you live and work?

In the north west of Spain, Galicia. Now due to Covid I travel less but before it, I was working and traveling many places as I only need a camera and a computer. This allows me move to work anywhere.

Do you think that animated gifs are a new art form?

I think so, despite the fact that the format existed since 1987. But as every new format of art it takes its time to be considered as art. The first photographs were not considered art until many years later. Same happened with film, same with CGI. Is nice to have in mind that gif format is the last strictly digital format of the three main ones on the web: picture, video and gif. Photography has about 200 years of history, video about 130, CGI about 60. Finally gif has 33, and used as art itself no more than 10-15. In the same way anybody takes a picture of anything does not convert it into art, is the same with gifs. One thing is the format, another is the 'art'. Everybody can take a picture, record a video or do a gif. The difference is on the how, the why, and from my point of view overall, the what.

Do you think that there is a difference between pure .gif files and the .mp4 files that people post on Instagram?

The first, big and obvious difference is the format. Is not the same a painting as a picture of a painting. Here happens the same. For example, if you treat a gif with Cinemagraph technique, you are converting in picture some parts of the image, so they still remain and with the texture and totally stillness of a picture. If you convert this gif into a mp4 this still parts, despite not having motion, will convert into a video texture (noise, subtle motion in pixels, etc) so the main characteristic, among the perfect loop, is lost. Another point is that you must play a video, a gif is always running. Waterfalls are always running and this characteristic is something that is inside our human nature, we react nice to "bucle" motions as waterfalls, fire, etc. We find pleasure on this. Of course if it's a video the perfect loop is lost and the visual mantra disappear. And another key point here is the soundtrack. In a video you can use sound to enhance or give another meaning to the piece that you can't with gifs. For me this is another characteristic that give meaning to gif. For me gif is silence, the sound is generated by the motion, the melody are the details and the beat the perfect loop. You can "hear" almost every gif.

The difference between a gif and a video is the same that between a waterfall and a hose (if this works).

What do you think are the characteristics of good gif art?

For me first and overall the perfect loop. Not using it is not using the only format that has this characteristics. Of course there can be gif art that is not perfect loop, but from my point of view and in my work is a must. It's a new way not only of creating but also of thinking. Imagine an still scene is easy, imagine an A-B point action is easy. For me the challenge is about thinking an idea that is perfect looped where all the elements interact and eventually come back to its initial point. Succeed doing this is where the perfect loop appears and you are not able to find where is the start point of the action. Like a visual mantra, that it's repetition leads you inside the piece. Gif art is nice to use the power of the hypnotic movements. Another point to have in mind for me is the flow of it, the frame rate I mean. Depending on the idea and the kind of animation this should vary; is not the same fps to achieve something with flow than if you want to achieve a more 'retro' old style. Another thing is about dithering and color palette. This second one is essential to understand as it affects the final file. When we work with photo and video we are using millions of colors but when rendered as gifs all the gradients, lights and even colors will change if there is a previous understood of this point.

As summary: If motion doesn't add, change of enhance the meaning of the piece, is expendable.

I'd would like to add that I'm not really supporter of this kind of gifs generated automatically that just move a still image itself. I understand that this 'technique' is used as a tool for certain motion (I use it) but not to move a whole image. I feel the same as if somebody hold a painting in front of me and moves it randomly. If the work was born still, it must remain still. A good example of 'inner motion', this means that the motion is implicit on the image despite not being in motion, are the photographs of Cartier Bresson for example. Giving motion to this pictures for example, will kill it because it will break the concept of 'perfect instant' .

'Instant' differs etymologically from 'moment' in the motion. So, still image (painting, photo, sculpture, etc) is an instant, videos are stories with a-b point, and gifs are moments, the mid point.

How would you describe your gif art?

I usually condense it as "Visual Mantras", as the technique and the aesthetic vary depending on the idea , but in all of them the perfect loop and the intention of hypnotizing is always present.

In another terms about aesthetics and themes I think ‘Industrial Nature’ can fit nice. I use a lot of industrial elements but I like to mix their mechanics with the biological natural ones.

How long have you been creating and selling NFTs?

I am selling NFTs since mid 2019, but it wasn't until October 2020 that I focused more on it and dug into the ecosystem to find new paths to focus my work.

Do you think that NFTs are a positive for gif artists?

For me, and the main reason I jumped into cryptoart and NFT, is that now I can certify my digital work as original. Even more to gif works as they were always understood as something banal and minor for the context of its born. Gif art was born prostituted, used mostly for ads and to claim our attention on the internet, next to the highest glamour of painting and traditional art, and 3d, photography and video these last decades. Even worst if we realize that gif format was the only visual format born by and for the internet.

NFTs are totally positive for gif artists because despite being a digital/online native format it never had its own ecosystem to live in. I feel that I was creating creatures for an ecosystem I was waiting to drop them there. Now with the blockchain, NFTs and cryptoart, I found the place where they can live, being watched by everybody and have the certify that is my work. Until some months ago my work was "free" on the web and I had no control over it at all. This was a huge problem I was suffering since my first month into gif art as people use it indiscriminately with no credit at all. It's ok, and I always defend that my work is to be seen, to be shared, but I was looking for the way to be able to have this link with my work without losing the option of being available for everybody. NFT totally changes this.

What do you think will happen in the future as NFTs get even more popular?

In general terms I think it will happen the same as when print got more popular. People will use it more, a lot of crazy and useless things will appear, tons more of different uses and useful purposes, (not only on art). This opens a new door a lot of people was waiting so the future is unpredictable but we can feel where things are going. NFT arrived to stay and the concept of decentralization is something that was always present on the internet since first days but born inside a centralized system. NFTs are being a way for people to understand the 'peer to peer' philosophy and this makes people think in different codes, so we can expect a lot of new horizons, in art, music, design...

What do you think of the environmental impact of NFTs?

This question can goes really deep but in general terms I think that is something that is being oversized due to the hype and the boiling point we are, and it's understandable because is not false that it has an environmental impact, as everything does. But on the other hand I have two main areas in mind. The first and the obvious from my point of view is that when something is new and developing is less efficient, in the way that it requires more effort to achieve the result. But at the same time, the more this technology is used the more is developed and all this issues are part of it. The first car was not electric.

The second point that usually reverberates in my mind and that it seems that 'hard critics' omit is that they are not having in mind that this NFTs we mint, give us a profit that can be used offline to do another things that can be useful to solve this problem, for example, investing part of this money on living on our own in a minimal and clean way (not working for huge multinational that their environmental impact is tons times more than NFTs and then being part of an ONG to feel clean) and on using part of this money on looking and researching new ways to mint and to keep this digital ecosystem more efficient and clean. Every development needs time.

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If you have found this content valuable considering getting me a cup of coffee

#gif aesthetic #street art #surrealism

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violetwolfraven · 3 years

Text

Ray Molina: Best Dad Ever

For the March 11th explosion of content thing. Just Violet being a fantom and doing my part for this!

Tw: mentioned death, mentioned abusive parents, mentioned panic attack.

So the boys can be seen and heard when directly touching Julie after the whole post-Orpheum glowy hug thing but Ray doesn’t know that just yet.

What he does know is that Julie’s mental health took a rapid turn for the better for seemingly no reason and then a couple weeks later he found out she joined a band without telling him.

He’s not stupid. He knows that’s probably because of the band, though he is a bit confused as to how she even met them.

He kinda figures it’s a kids and your internet tricks thing but there’s some flaws to this theory.

1) He asks Flynn what she knows about the boys only... it seems like she doesn’t know much of anything. That’s weird because he knows Julie tells her practically everything.

2) The boys have American accents despite Julie claiming they’re from Sweden.

3) Carlos is a terrible liar and on the rare occasion Julie actually talks about the boys he gets this weirdly conspiratorial look.

So anyway Ray doesn’t really believe it’s as simple as ‘I met these 3 Swedish boys on the internet’ but he trusts his daughter’s judgement and he leaves it alone.

Anyway he has other things to focus on.

Such as how Ray has literally never been able to keep track of his keys/phone/hats/camera parts/stuff and now it seems to just pop up whenever he’s looking for it.

Also he keeps feeling like there’s someone with him around the house more and more.

Like not a malicious presence like Victoria fears, and definitely not like Rose is around watching him, but like someone is there.

Sometimes it feels like there’s more than one presence around. None of them familiar but all of them friendly.

Oddly enough, whatever or whoever it is feels almost like Julie or Carlos. Young and excitable and like a verse of a happy song. He’s not sure why they’re around, but they definitely don’t feel dangerous, so Ray doesn’t feel threatened.

But some days a better comparison might be to Trevor back when Rose first introduced him. Raw and fragile and very, very sad.

Ray tries to put on happy music or a Disney cartoon or something on those days and he doesn’t quite know why or how but the energy usually gets more positive when he does that.

Anyway after a while of this (after the Orpheum performance) he starts noticing weird things that Carlos and Julie do now.

Carlos will just carry around a small whiteboard and a couple pens and he erases it whenever Ray comes into the room but before he does it almost looks like there’s two, three, or even four sets of handwriting on there.

And he walks in on Julie talking to herself like. All the time.

Carlos doesn’t ask for help on his math homework anymore. Julie makes this insanely good chicken recipe for dinner once and then clearly panics and lies when asked where she got it. Flynn makes a set of rainbow friendship bracelets one day while she’s hanging out at the Molina house but he doesn’t see Julie wearing the match to the one she keeps.

Plus Carrie starts hanging out at their house again?? Out of the blue?? And none of the girls have a good explanation for how they made up??

Then later Nick Danforth-Evans (who Julie used to talk about having a crush on but hasn’t in a while) starts hanging around too and the kid seems... well, Ray doesn’t want to throw the word ‘traumatized’ around, but he’s jumpy and guarded in a way that can only be described as a little bit traumatized.

So all 5 kids are clearly keeping some secret and Ray’s getting suspicious and worried.

He sits them down and asks what’s going on. Like is one of them having problems at home, or..?

The kids, simultaneously:

Julie: no, we’re just all in a play together!

Carlos: we’re fine we’re just ghost hunting!

Flynn: we’re exhibiting bisexual-pansexual-lesbian solidarity!

Carrie: Julie and the Phantoms and Dirty Candi are doing a collaboration album!

Nick: we all joined jazz band??

Ray’s calling bullshit at this point.

Then Julie and Nick both look up directly at the same spot, somewhere a couple feet above the arm of the couch, which is seemingly just empty air.

Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem like the other kids can see it but they all seem to be waiting for something and Ray is wondering if they’re sharing a hallucination??? Are they all on drugs??? Should he be worried???

Then Julie says to meet them in the studio in 30 minutes. Flynn, Carrie, and Nick go home to give the Molina family some alone time.

*cue music performance where Ray is introduced to the boys*

So anyway Julie and Carlos (with the help of the ghosts whenever one of them has something to say and grabs Julie’s hand) give him a clearly-sugarcoated version of the last few months.

Ghosts of Trevor’s dead bandmates help Julie reconnect with music, they form a band, they meet another ghost, other ghost accidentally gets them involved with evil magician ghost, Nick got possessed, Carrie figured it out and helped plot to get him un-possessed, evil magician ghost is still out there and they’re sticking together so he can’t get any of them in the future.

Despite how they say it like it’s no big deal, Ray now understands why the kids have been acting so weird because all these things sound scary and painful.

Also the more he thinks about it, the more he worries about the fact that he has three 17-year-old boys sleeping in his garage who died terribly of food poisoning.

They are children and they died incredibly painfully and then almost got enslaved and/or erased from existence.

Then one day Ray’s feeling one of those presences around the house again and he realizes it’s probably one of Julie’s ghost boys.

Ray: who’s there?

Whoever it is freaks out and leaves, and Ray takes notes for next time.

The next time he feels someone in the room, he has a notepad ready and he writes down “Luke, Alex, or Reggie?” from what he remembers from Julie’s introductions.

Immediately, there’s a spike of anxiety in the room.

Ray: it’s okay. You can stay and we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I’d like to know who it is I’m not talking to though.

There’s a few seconds of hesitation, and then the pen picks itself up and the name “Reggie” gets circled.

Ray: the bassist with the flannels, right?

Yeah, written in a teenage boy’s messy scrawl.

Ray: okay, do you want to watch a movie?

More hesitation, and Ray’s not sure what that’s about but he’s starting to suspect with the amount of fear still in the room, and there’s a good 20 seconds where Reggie doesn’t respond before I don’t know.

Ray: Moana or Tangled? Moana.

After that, he takes a page out of Carlos’s book and gets a small whiteboard with 3 pens that stick to it magnetically. Red for Reggie, blue for Luke, and pink for Alex.

Reggie has written conversations with him most, but Luke does sometimes too and Alex does least often but he’ll still request a movie occasionally.

All of them are wary around him and Ray doesn’t quite know what to do to earn their trust. But he asks questions about their preferences on things. He says they did good on their latest show. He remembers which movies are their favorites and introduces them to music he thinks are their styles.

Luke is a big fan of Fall Out Boy and Reggie fucking loves Taylor Swift.

Alex is less consistent but occasionally Ray will play a song and he’ll write something like This is a cool song.

He starts to be able to tell which energy is which even before they write who it is right around the time the boys start to be visible for longer and longer after playing.

They play a really good show and stay visible for like 2 full days and that’s the first (but not the last) time Ray really gets to get to know them.

He starts noticing after really good shows like that one how even more now that they can be seen, they’re all a little... off from how Nick and Carrie and Flynn act around him.

With Luke it’s mostly because he’s trying so hard to impress because *gasp* he and Julie are a thing but there’s still a little bit of tension that seems like it comes from something deeper than just being nervous around his girlfriend’s dad.

With Reggie it’s subtle caution. Like he’s happy to be hanging out with Ray but he’s constantly ready for something to go wrong. There’s a catch in his smile, a hesitation before he states an opinion, a practiced carefulness where he changes the subject at any sign of even mild frustration.

But with Alex... it’s mostly just avoidance. Like if he poofs in while visible and it just so happens that no one else is there, he’ll find an excuse to leave.

And Ray lets him, of course. He doesn’t want the kid to feel trapped. But all of the boys’ behavior bothers him.

On the rare occasion they spend more than 2 seconds together Alex is really quiet. He won’t admit if Ray guessed wrong about a song and he doesn’t like it even though his body language makes it clear he’s not vibing with it. Actually, his body language pretty much just spells I am very uncomfortable in every situation where Julie or Carlos went to the bathroom or someone went to grab a snack and they’re alone even for 5 minutes while he’s visible.

Ray’s not stupid. He knows three 17-year-olds don’t end up getting their instruments left to their only living bandmate’s new best friend’s family by having good relationships with their own families.

He doesn’t exactly want to bring it up, but he kind of knows.

Then one day he’s sitting with all 3 boys watching a movie while he fixes something on his camera and Julie and Carlos are at school and he messes up a little part that means he has to start over (don’t @ me I know nothing about cameras) and swears out of frustration louder than he meant to.

He reaches for the screwdriver on the coffee table and

And Reggie and Alex both flinch.

Ray hadn’t even noticed they were tracking his movements, but while Luke seems to just have moved his focus from the TV to his friends in concern, Alex and Reggie both look too tense to play it off.

He figures its as good a time as any to have a chat cause these boys aren’t his sons but they don’t have anyone else acting as a parent figure to them and he feels the need to take care of them. He pauses the movie.

Ray: Can we have a talk? About you boy’s families?

Naturally Luke jumps in to try to distract him immediately, telling a story about his dad taking him fishing once, but he stops when Ray asks him to stop.

Ray: That’s not what I’m talking about and I think you all know it.

The boys are all still silent. Luke looks 500% ready to deflect again. Reggie and Alex look more like they’re expecting to get yelled at or worse.

Ray: I just want to help. I’ll drop it if you want me to but I want you to know that I would never do something to hurt any of you intentionally. You can talk to me about anything if you need to.

He means to make it an option of ‘you can talk but you don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ but the boys clearly don’t take it as such with how Luke starts talking immediately.

Luke: I ran away when I was 17. My mom and dad didn’t want me to stay in Sunset Curve, I think they thought it was going to get me into drugs or something.

They have a short talk about parents having good intentions not equalling them being right to push Luke so hard they pushed him away and it’s okay to feel hurt by that and then press play on the movie again and Ray thinks he sees all 3 boys relax somewhat during that.

A couple weeks later Reggie comes in visible and hesitantly asks about watching this series he saw when Carlos was scrolling through Netflix once.

Mid-episode he blurts out

Reggie: I don’t want to look for my parents and I feel weird about that.

He rambles for a while about knowing he was lucky that his family had money and his mom and dad told him they loved him and stuff but also he remembers so many fights between them where he felt caught in the middle and it never ended well if he chose a side but there was no way to win because they’d both turn on him if he didn’t so it was just this constant balancing act to try to prevent fights in the first place.

Reggie: I felt like I was walking on a tightrope. Like, all the time. I tried so hard to keep them from getting mad at each other or at me. Only it never worked and it was always a question of when they were going to snap next and it was confusing cause one day we’d go to the zoo and everything would be fine and the next they’d yell at me and send me to bed without food.

He feels guilty for not wanting to put in the effort to find them because he’s pretty sure on some level they did love him but he doesn’t want to see them again.

And he doesn’t want to know if they even miss him at all because when he got older and the fighting got too intense he would sneak off to Luke’s or Bobby’s and no matter if he stayed away for an hour or a couple days they never seemed to notice he was gone.

Ray listens and a lot of things about Reggie start to make sense. How he’s so careful not to catch him in a bad mood. How he shuts down whenever anyone raises their voice. How he helps out so much in an effort to stay on Ray’s good side.

It’s a day and a half after the latest show so they can’t really hug but Ray does what he can to provide comfort and validate his feelings anyway because damn Reggie is a good kid and he didn’t deserve that.

Reggie and Luke get more comfortable with coming to him for meaningful chats, or even just to vent about whatever’s going on lately.

Eventually they seem to feel almost as comfortable with him as Julie and Carlos do so it kinda becomes a routine.

Like Julie will ask for cuddles when she’s sad about missing Rose or she’ll walk in and vent about Carrie and Flynn being so obvious about liking each other but somehow not realizing it’s mutual and she and Nick are 3rd wheeling and going insane.

Carlos will excitedly ramble about his latest baseball practice shenanigans for an hour but also sometimes ask for someone to watch old home movies or listen to old CDs from Rose and the Petal Pushers with him.

And that’s normal. That’s been Ray’s life since his kids started talking. But the thing is that it’s just as normal when

When Luke tells how he’s still angry about his music getting stolen because it feels like a part of him was taken away and he worked hard on those songs. Also one day he very shyly admits

Luke: I like Julie a lot.

Ray: I know, kiddo.

Luke: You’re not mad?

Ray: As long as you two make each other happy, no. I’m happy for you.

And it’s just as normal when Reggie talks about missing his little cousin Kelsi and wondering where she ended up only for them to look her up and find out she’s a major Broadway writer/director now oh my god— and also

Reggie: I think I like boys. Like boys are cute. But I know I’m not gay because girls are cute too and ugh it’s confusing it’s probably nothing I guess everybody goes through this.

Ray: Have you ever thought you might be bisexual?

Reggie: Bi-what-now?

Ray, already digging out his old flannels that he would have passed down to Julie except they’re too big for her: It’s okay to like both, kiddo.

All this is great of course. It’s great how Reggie and Luke aren’t afraid anymore and they feel validated and seen and listened to.

But months have passed and Ray notices how Alex remains separate. He still avoids Ray when he can and stays quiet and cautious when he can’t.

Like Ray still senses Alex around him sometimes but never right after a show when he’s visible. He doesn’t come to him with problems. He’ll stay and listen when Ray plays a song he thinks he’d like, but he still seems so cautious and Ray doesn’t know how to help.

He asks Luke one day while he’s introducing him to a Wicked bootleg if he’s done something specific to scare Alex away.

Luke gets this really dark look on his face and he just

Luke: Let’s just say that my parents didn’t do everything perfectly, but they’re saints compared to Alex’s.

Ray decides to drop it, but Luke wants to reassure him.

Luke: You haven’t done anything wrong. He’s just not very comfortable around most adults in general. It’s one thing when we’re invisible, but...

Ray: I just wish I could help.

Luke: You do help. But it took a while for Alex to trust me.

The conversation ends there because Luke starts getting really into Defying Gravity.

But then that night Julie comes in with a kind of out of character movie request so Ray thinks Luke talked to her.

Because Julie does not like most romcoms that aren’t musicals. She gets bored. But she requests Love, Simon anyway.

Ray kind of sees what she’s trying to do there because now that he’s thinking about it the boys haven’t really seen many things with queer rep. Especially not queer main characters.

And nobody’s really told him that Alex is gay but cmon he’s an elder bi. He has accurate gaydar so he can support his queer ducklings.

Despite how the boys all know being gay is more socially acceptable now (they found out about Nick’s dads and the girls gave them the ‘gay marriage is legal now’ talk) they still seem kind of baffled by how there’s an entire romcom centered around a gay boy and it did well.

From there Ray tries to find more movies and tv shows with canon queer representation.

And he keeps giving Alex space but also trying his best to show him that he’s not like his parents.

For a long time nothing changes beyond Luke and Reggie getting increasingly comfortable with him.

Well that’s not completely true actually cause Reggie starts tagging along to photo shoots and becomes Ray’s unofficial mostly invisible assistant.

Then the band plays an amazing show and the boys stay visible for a full week.

Around the middle of that week, Ray goes out to the garage to find Reggie and see if he wants to come on a photo shoot.

Reggie isn’t out there but Alex is.

And he’s crying. Hard.

He looks like he’s going to poof out when he sees Ray there but Ray’s already 100% ready to do exactly what he always does when he walks in on Julie or Carlos crying.

Ray: Alex. Hey, buddy, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s going to be okay.

Alex freezes and it breaks Ray’s heart how that kind of concern is clearly not what he’s expecting.

Ray: Are you okay with being touched?

Alex looks kind of like he’s in shock but he nods.

He clearly doesn’t really know what to do with it but he kind of melts into it when Ray hugs him and he just sobs on his shoulder.

When he’s stopped crying enough he starts rambling about how he’s been looking everywhere but he can’t find Willie.

At that point he’s basically having a panic attack so finding out what’s wrong takes a backseat compared to calming him down and Ray knows how to do that because he and Rose used to do that for Trevor all the time.

Ray: Alex, breathe. In for 4 counts, hold for 7, out for 8. Breathe with me.

It takes a couple minutes until Alex has calmed down enough, but once he does, Ray asks what’s wrong and what’s happening with Willie.

He only vaguely knows who Willie is from what he’s been told by the other kids but he knows he’s important to Alex.

So Alex takes a deep breath and explains that Caleb confronted him and basically said the boys had to join his house band or he would make sure he’d never see Willie again. And he doesn’t want to ask his family to sacrifice themselves for him but he doesn’t want to lose the boy he loves either.

Ray wants to throw hands but from what the kids have told him about Caleb, he has a better idea.

Ray: Here’s what we’re gonna do, buddy. Reggie said Caleb has this super catchy number, The Other Side of Hollywood?

Alex: Yeah?

Ray: How quickly do you think Luke and Julie could come up with an arrangement for you four to cover that and how desperate do you think Covington would be to make sure a video of that never gets published without crediting him?

Alex: :o

Spoiler alert: Julie and Luke, in collaboration with Carrie, can come up with an arrangement very quickly.

They do a private performance of it and film it and basically blackmail Caleb into letting Willie go.

Willie has an empty house that used to be his parents’ that he still considers his so he mostly crashes there if he needs to. Also he loves skating around so much that he never stays in one place for very long.

Julie can see him but she can’t make him visible so it’s a little odd but Ray gets an orange pen for him for the whiteboard and he finds skateboarding videos and stuff for when he visits.

They eventually figure out that he can be part of the magic by adding him to the band so they give him a tambourine and yay now Willie can be seen but that’s later.

The biggest immediate change to come out of all this is Alex.

He’s not afraid of Ray anymore for the most part (healing isn’t linear and he can’t help a few bad days) and he starts actually talking to him. Not about serious stuff but he’s talking. Mostly just rambling about how Willie makes him feel or how Luke and Reggie have been being annoying lately.

Then one day he comes in really nervous and says something about Reggie saying he talked to Ray about his parents.

And Ray confirms it and asks if there’s anything Alex needs to tell him.

Alex sits down and clearly he’s been holding this in for a long time and he just unloads how he came out to his parents because his youngest sister found his diary and he was scared she’d tell them. They didn’t react well and when he cried out of fear and frustration his father... gave him something to cry about.

His father did that a few more times, trying to ‘make him man up,’ and Alex never told his bandmates but he always knew they could see the bruises and that was why Bobby made it so clear his garage was open and his house was a safe place to run.

But Alex didn’t no matter how bad things got because he guessed some small part of him thought he deserved it but mostly it was about how his oldest sister dropped out of college and ghosted the family and Alex was the next-oldest so he felt responsible for protecting his younger sisters even if they both had learned behaviors from their parents and hated him.

Then that summer he found out his parents were planning on sending him away to some Christian camp where they’d ‘fix’ him.

Alex made it clear that he wouldn’t go and if they tried to make him he’d run away, but their ultimatum was that he couldn’t live under their roof if he was gay.

So he didn’t. And it was a situation somewhere between getting kicked out and running away, but he packed a bag and never went back.

He ran to Bobby’s house, he wrote a whole bunch of angry songs, and he tried not to think too much about how he understood why his older sister left and how he was doing the exact same thing to his younger sisters.

By the time he’s done explaining everything Ray’s trying not to cry but Alex is definitely already crying mostly out of anger.

Alex: I hated them all. I hated Molly for leaving me and I hated my mom for turning my little sisters against me and I hated my dad for hurting me and I even hated Anna and Josie for not standing by me and I just hated them all so much. I still do. And it is so stupid that I feel guilty for that because they were terrible to me and I was 16 and I didn’t deserve that but I do feel guilty for it because they’re my family and I hate them.

Ray doesn’t have much to say because damn this is heavy stuff but he assures him that after what he went through he has a right to hate his blood family.

Alex tells him awkwardly when he’s calmed down a bit that Luke is the only other person he’s ever told about all this, because after he ran away they dated for a few months before figuring out that they were better as friends.

Reggie and Bobby guessed parts of it and Julie probably has too but none of them have asked and Alex thinks he might tell Reggie and Julie someday if it ever comes up but he never did end up telling Bobby.

Ray assures him that he won’t tell anyone and also that he would never do that. He would never do anything to hurt Alex or the others on purpose.

He makes a silent promise that no one will ever hurt one of his kids like that again and if Caleb or anyone else ever tries, they will regret it.

But anyway on to happier matters.

Willie visits a lot and he’s a little skittish around Ray but he loosens up after he jokingly mentions one time that Willie and Alex are like the beginning of the Sk8ter Boy song.

Alex and Ray might be Denim Jacket Buddies but once Ray digs his old leather jacket out of the closet he becomes Leather Jacket Buddies with Reggie.

You’d think he has to tell Carlos and Reggie off the most for breaking things but he doesn’t. It’s Carlos and Luke.

Also Ray doesn’t consider himself an overprotective dad but Julie and Luke are not allowed to be alone in a room with the door closed.

Neither are Alex and Willie technically but it’s harder to enforce it when they’re both ghosts.

Lmao all the kids follow the rules anyway because they love Ray and he’s not being unreasonable.

He helps Julie in her plot to get Carrie and Flynn together and also he helps Nick plan how to make a move on that cute boy on his lacrosse team.

Because Nick loves his dads but they’re disaster gays. Neither of those men can properly flirt. They fell in love because of a baseball rivalry and Nick doesn’t trust their advice.

Pride month rolls around and Julie makes sure to book a big gig the day before the parade so the boys will be visible and tangible.

Trevor’s on tour and can’t get away and Flynn’s parents are working and Nick’s are busy too so Ray finds himself escorting this whole little gaggle of various queer ducklings to pride.

Carlos isn’t quite sure what he is yet so he’s just got a rainbow flag painted on his cheek and a shirt that says I love my bi sister on it.

Julie’s all decked out in the bi colors, complete with ribbons braided into her hair and a flag to use as a cape. She made the tutu herself and it took her hours but it turned out really good.

Luke’s got a tank top with the pan colors and a trans flag as a cape and also yknow face paint of course.

Reggie browsed thrift shops everywhere until he found a flannel in the bi colors and he’s got that along with pink purple and blue laces in his combat boots and what Ray is really hoping is temporary dye and not spray paint in his hair.

Alex has a rainbow shirt that matches Willie’s and matching bracelets with Flynn. Also he painted rainbow hearts on his cheeks and put a lot of effort into them and they look really symmetrical.

Willie’s of course matching shirts with Alex and also he has sparkly rainbow socks and a flag to use as a cape.

Carrie’s got a whole ensemble in the lesbian colors complete with a pride wig and also matching necklaces with Flynn.

Flynn’s matching colors with Carrie but more in her style with of course matching jewelry with the people closest to her. She’s got friendship bracelets corresponding to Alex and Julie.

Nick’s got a pan tshirt and a fedora with a ribbon in pink yellow and blue plus face paint cause all of them have face paint. Nothing too crazy.

Meanwhile Ray’s got a bi bandanna and one of those shirts that’s like Free Dad Hugs.

Plus everyone did each other’s nails with varying degrees of success the night before and Julie did Ray’s so they turned out good.

Nick’s lacrosse buddies and the rest of Dirty Candi are around somewhere but they didn’t ride in the same car so they’re not that relevant.

They party. Celebrate being alive. Idk I’ve never gotten to go to pride.

And afterwards they all go back to the Molina house and the couch isn’t really big enough for all of them but it’s okay it’s not like they know how to sit correctly anyway.

They all kind of pile together and cuddle and watch movies until Flynn and Nick’s parents can come pick them up.

And Ray just looks around and realizes that

Sure only 2 of them are his biologically

And 3 of the others have good parent(s) who are actively a part of their lives

The remaining 4 are technically dead

But he has 9 children and he’s totally fine with that.

Cause he’s Ray Molina: best dad ever.

Victoria’s head is going to explode when she finds out that not only is the Molina house really haunted, but he’s adopted the ghosts.

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demenior · 3 years

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Dem’s Big Post About The Spn Fics Part 1/2

aka The Wrap Up to celebrate To Exist Again and To Become a Man now being finished!

(This will be a long post. This is your only warning.)

Admittedly this is a bit of a weird thing to be doing, but I wanted to try it out for 3 reasons:

I love talking about my own work and

It functions really well as a self-reflective tool for me to improve on, and

I can answer some big questions people might have because there was a LOT of worldbuilding in these stories.

We’ll start off with reflective stuff, and move into the juicier world-building focused stuff later into the post. There will be major spoilers for both fics to come!

To begin with a funny anecdote, Why Did I Write These Stories?

I was beginning to write and work out the story that I wanted to write for Spn (what will now be To Destroy a Man. As I was writing the scene, I realized I had a LOT of ideas and while I was trying to avoid as much exposition as I could, it became quickly apparent that I was needing to create my own au (this scene eventually became chapter 34 of To Become a Man). A short prequel seemed like a good idea, to quickly hash out the ‘prior’ events that I needed to go through so all the readers could be on the same page. While plotting out prequel points, I realized Sam and Dean were going to have drastically different experiences during the same time period, and I was trying to figure out who’s pov would be better for which scenes, and how to keep momentum when they’re going through such radically different types of changes. Ultimately I decided to split their povs, which I also thought would be a fun project! And I naively assumed each pov would take about 2 chapters each, rounding out to maybe 15k total.

I had my ending points: Dean n Cas soul-merged and (basically) married, Cas on the lam from heaven and a complete anomaly, and Sam juiced up full of powers and a weird mix of archangel and antichrist but still 100% human and ready to fight God.

Now I needed to add weight to these changes, so I wrote 200k of build-up.

Am I proud of these fics?

OF COURSE I AM!!! These are the longest fics I’ve ever written AND finished AND in the fastest freakin turnaround ever (both were finished writing, barring edits, in like 6 months holy shit)

I didn’t write a single scene that I “didn’t” want to write. If I had trouble writing it, as in it was fighting me, I scrapped it. Most obviously was the scene in Dean’s pov where he and Sam were intended to meet some other hunters and Dean declines working with them because he’s nervous about being outed as queer. It was meant to be a good scene! I wanted to introduce some new characters! But it just wasn’t working so I said ‘thank you, next!’.

But it means this story was an absolute joy to write. Because for a while all I was doing was ‘if I wanted to write one scene into supernatural, what would I write?’ and then just DID that!! It’s why there’s a lot of ‘Salmondean do dumb shit or have really dumb heartfelt conversations’ scenes.

Would I change anything?

If I’d been less eager to start sharing, I might have planned out the story beats a little tighter so there were less ‘soft’ chapters and a draw/pull for people to come back and keep reading. I felt Dean’s story specifically lagged at points and could have used some tighter editing (there was a noticeable lull in directed movement between Dean n Cas getting together, until Sam corrupts Amy).

I also probably would have held Sam’s story until I’d finished Dean’s so I could make the two line up better! Probably could have inserted more scenes into Sam’s fic that way, and made sure things were a little more consistent. In an ideal world one concept I had was to release 1 chapter from each pov every week that would correspond to the same time frame so we’d be getting real-time SalmonDean pov narrative. Unfortunately that didn’t work!

The biggest takeaway overall is for me to focus more on what moves the plot, and to make my scenes do more than 1 thing so I can cut down on wordcount and increase my efficiency.

Of course every writer will find things they want to fix in anything they’ve ever written, so these are minor “mistakes” at best. I’m so dang proud of these fics.

Onto more interesting things!

How Did I Put These Fics Together (because it’s different than anything I’ve ever done before)

Normally when I write a story, I plan out the beats I need to hit, see where I need to insert any kind of foreshadowing/buildup, and then write from A to B to C and so on and so forth. Hence, this is why I can normally post things as I complete chapters, because it’s all a linear progression.

For these two stories, rather than linear plot/a normal story structure, I just sat and free-wrote any and every scene that came to mind and then pieced them into a kinda-linear form like putting a quilt together. You’ll note that this is why there’s not a lot of internal callback or a feeling of sense of time flowing within the fic (save for points where I went back and specifically edited it in). How long does the story take place over? Hard to say! Your author has the barest grasp on linear time even on a good day (how many times did I say ‘see you on [wrong day]’ at the end of chapters lmaaoooo)

This also meant EXTENSIVE editing on the back end once I decided in what order I wanted my ‘quilt pieces’ to be. Hard to say if this is a bonus or a negative!

But I did want to try and capture the vibe of the lives they lead, as a bit of a ‘slice of life’-style story, when the slice of life is the profound weirdness of the Winchester roaming life, and how things are status quo- until everyone almost dies oh shit!! And then they have to keep living because no therapy we die/undie like Winchesters. Do I think I captured this effectively? Hmm. Good question.

Dem where the FUCK did the inspiration for a lot of the magic and creature weirdness even come from?

Honestly? Music, primarily. And completely mishearing lyrics!

Nightwish ‘Ever Dream’: the line is ‘my song can but borrow you grace’ and because my brain is scrambled eggs on a good day, I heard ‘grace’ ‘song’ and ‘borrow’ in that order and have had, for YEARS, the mental image of Cas borrowing Dean’s soul to power himself up for battle.

From there I’ve always been enamored with the ‘wavelength of celestial intent’ descriptor that Cas drops in s6 for “what he is”.

I also really like ocean metaphors mostly because I’ve been obsessed with the ocean and things in it since I was like… 5??? So really this was me just rolling with what I know lmao. I love using (somewhat) accurate scientific metaphors for very intangible things!

I was also finishing my degree in biology/ecology while writing these fics and I think it shows

Stars ‘The Night Starts Here’ gives us the series title and the fic titles. Except for ‘To Exist Again’. TEA was almost titled ‘The Upwards Fall’ because I wanted all 3 of the Main Stories to have titles from this song, but I couldn’t make anything else work in tandem with the series name ‘The Love It Takes’ while also working for Sam’s personal story. So Sam, as always, is the rebel <3

Stars ‘Up In Our Bedroom, After The War’ is basically the vibes of the whole story. TFW has been, literally, to hell and back!!! There’s a bit of melancholy and sadness, a lingering dark, but the chance of a bright new tomorrow and a soft start.

Let’s Talk About Themes in The Story! What were you looking to accomplish?

My earliest notes for TFW are, as follows:

Dean’s journey of self-discovery (who am I when I’m not trying to be Dad?)

Dean wants to settle down! He wants a big family! He wants to be domestic!

Basically: Dean doesn’t want to have a short life of hunting. He wants to live!

Dean’s journey of realizing he’s bi, and him accepting that

Dean’s relationship to Sam is both older brother/parent

And continuing Dean balancing these roles while also letting Sam be an adult

Dean’s Big Issues/Fears about never being good enough for people to want to stay with him (these are effectively highlighted in that Cas thinks he’s not useful enough to be wanted)

Sub Plot:

Castiel’s autonomy

Cas’ fall from grace, to trying to restore Heaven, to wrecking it further

He’s majorly depressed by the end of s7 (before purgatory)

Wants to stay in Purgatory but doesn’t tell Dean

Remains depressed after leaving, but resolved to keep living on because he’s clearly meant for something

After the seraphim reveal: does he have free will?! How does he grapple with this? How does he live in a way he can be proud of?

And lastly

Sam gets his powers back CAUSE THATS HOT

where tf did they go????

he got them from Lucifer?????

sleeper agent??????

Sam is The Chosen One

Accepts that he is More Than Human and to celebrate all parts of him

Lucifer and Sam friends?? Work together????

Sam needs autonomy in his choices/his life

If you compare these to the overall arc of TFW within the two stories, I think I got a lot of them! But you’ll also note a lot of these things aren’t concrete goals that are easily measurable (ex: Dean wants to learn to bake pie. In chapter 1 he starts a fire in the kitchen. By the end of the story he finally makes A Good Pie.) part of the lack of concrete milestones was why I felt it was important to tell Dean (and Cas’) story by going back to the point they meet, in s4! Dean’s gradual change towards his feelings for Cas, his relationship to Sam (heavily influenced by the s7 events of this fic) and then his own relationship with himself were such slow burns that I felt it would be a disservice to try and cram a change like that into a timeline like “1 year”.

I felt like these subtle changes and adjustments actually felt a lot truer to life-- people often change in very small, gradual ways over time, even without realizing it and often times not consistently! If only we could all gain skills like the sims, where we can easily level up and remain at that high level of performance!

So the Guy Who Ate Satan, A Celestial Nuke that Developed Sentience, and Dean walk into a bar…

Sam’s story in Spn The Show has always been a ‘chosen one’ kind of narrative. Sam is living with one foot in the realm of the monsters, and I wanted to bring that back full force! It really makes sense for him that he should only continue to grow in power, might, and magic!! As the story progresses.

Cas also got a power up! I do desperately love in the show that he was kind of a grunt/nothing angel, and so even when he defected to TFW he was a huge help for them, but in the scale of things he was an annoying fly to most other angels. It really worked for the underdog story of s4/5. In this I wanted to give him a power up, and originally it was actually going to be close contact with Sam that eventually changed Cas into something unknown (you can still see traces of this in ch34 of TBAM, where Death remarks ‘Castiel could be [Sam’s] first creation’. But for a combo of reasons: how Sam’s magic needed to have intent, the entire concept of free will and consent, and how much I wanted Dean and Cas to have their effect on each other, I decided to go with the route that Cas has actually always been something angel-adjacent rather than becoming something new. TFW/Supernatural has always been about free will and making your own story, so I amplified that with Cas.

Dean has always been A Normal Guy, which is part of the appeal of him and Sam (2 normal dudes!) taking on the Very Not Normal. As explained above, Sam’s story is ‘normal guy finds out he’s the chosen one’ and so, in a story about very large concepts and huge monsters and acts of magic, I felt it was very important to keep Dean as normal as possible. To the point it became a running gag to me, personally, in that ‘no matter what cool shit happens around him, Dean has to stay as Just A Guy’. And it’s a very humanizing role that allows the story to have the scale it does!

What were the most important themes in your story?

Sam’s Autonomy

I wasn’t even going to include the plot about Lucifer’s death in this story— that was going to come up in a later story, actually! And rather than Sam having ate Lucifer, the original idea was that they’d become a SamandLucifer entity (this harkens back to a concept I wanted to write when Swan Song first aired).

That storyline would have involved a lot of mental ‘Sam and Lucifer discuss what it means to live, which one of them is more worthy of life and if they do deserve to destroy the world for the pain they’ve been forced to go through, just to create the dichotomy of good and evil for everyone else’ discussions. There would be a lot of talk about how Sam hates and fears Lucifer for the pain Lucifer put on Sam, how Lucifer hates Sam because he and Sam are the same but Sam’s brother loves him anyways, etc.

Ultimately that was scrapped because Sam’s entire story in the show is always about how the world and everyone around him manipulates him and that he never actually gets to make choices about his own life or body that aren’t influenced or part of someone elses’ design. And that always bothered me that Sam was never allowed to be himself without having to be ashamed of it, and I wanted to make sure that Sam’s triumph of being proud of himself/proudly choosing to exist (again) was evident in his story

In the end I needed Sam to have this visceral win over his tormentor. As the story shows, in this case Lucifer was abused and put into a position where he was incapable of empathy and could only express himself in violence. Sam even understands this! But it doesn’t change the fact that Lucifer tortured Sam in unimaginable ways for thousands of years.

With that in mind I didn’t like the idea of Lucifer and Sam having “co-ownership” of their new identity, so I made the choice that Sam had to be the survivor. This tied in well with Sam’s new crusade to restore free will to the universe, because he’s breaking the narrative of his own story!

While Castiel wasn’t a pov character, his own autonomy and free will was equally as important. You’ll note that many, many paragraphs and conversations revolved around that theme and that in the end Cas followed himself (and love!) which ensured his freedom of self <3

The Brothers are WEIRD PEOPLE!!!! And Codependent to a Worrying Degree, but It’s Also How They Survive

It’s very hard to show “unusual” relationships when you’re writing from the pov of the two people who don’t think there’s anything weird about their relationship. Sure, they say ‘yeah it’s probably weird that we still share a bed’ but that’s kinda more in line with ‘I had a nightmare and I want to be close to the person who makes me feel safe’. Hashtag normalize co-sleeping when you need it!!!

From there I did try to point out how the boys have a weird perception of lifestyle in the little things they did.

From thrifting everything from clothes to appliances to books (thrifting is a valid lifestyle! It’s incredibly handy when you’re on a budget.)

To never actually having condiments or knowing how to use a dishwasher cause they’ve lived in a car, a motel room, or squatted in old houses their whole life.

I tried to have them wear each others’ clothes or casually swap things as much as possible. They live out of each others’ pockets!

Also the brothers are just weird people!! It’s hard to show from their pov, cause they don’t know how far off from normal they are, but like…

Everything about Sam and Amelia was NOT right like holy shit those two were wilding in their grief. They are very lucky things worked out for them and that they got to be hashtag Weird Girls together

Dean explicitly, in the story, gets horny after killing stuff!! Violence has done a number on his psyche and he’s gotten some wires crossed that maybe shouldn’t have been, or maybe could be worked out in a safe space but… uh… how likely do we think Dean is gonna go find a safe space to deal with any of his shit???

LOVE!!! Love is truly what this whole story is all about

If you’ve read the stories, you know how much emphasis I put on love. Love is the strongest force in the Spn Universe! It’s what averted the apocalypse and saved the world (Swan Song), it’s what created free will (Cas’ entire arc!) I love love!!!!

I went out of my way to not put any definitions on platonic love vs romantic love because I think love is love is love and how you express that is the difference. Neither is more powerful than the other because LOVE is powerful!! Sam and Cas are the most important people in Dean’s life and he loves them equally! He shows this by giving Cas kisses and stealing Sam’s socks.

It’s a personal pet peeve of mine when I have to hear explanations like ‘I love you, like a brother’ or ‘I love you, but like, as a friend because I’m a lesbian and you’re a man’ etc etc in media. If you have to continuously define how your characters love each other, then I don’t think you’re doing a good job of portraying their relationship. So you’ll see that I never put those parameters in any conversation. Dean DOES muse that he loves Cas differently than he loves Sam or Bobby, specifically because there is a romantic and sexual tone that his feelings for Cas takes, but not because he loves Cas more or less than he loves Sam or Bobby.

Which means, if you haven’t realized it yet, the Series + Fic Titles are meant to be a complete sentence because the power of love IS the thesis of this series:

The Love It Takes To Exist Again (Sam’s journey!)

The Love It Takes To Become a Man (Dean’s journey!)

The Love It Takes To Destroy a Man (TBA)

And now for fun stuff. Behind the scenes!!

What’s Something People Probably Don’t Know?

The demonic fungal/hydrothermal vent growth on Sam’s arm was thrown in literally as I was posting the chapter because I had just finished a 48 hour cram session of writing a report on tube worms for an ecology class (I was chanting my tube worm song as I wrote it) and it ended up being a HUGE hit with both readers and myself. But it was so last minute I had trouble fitting it in more throughout the rest of Sam’s story!

Cas’ orders? That may or may not have bound him to Dean and removed his free will? Were written into Sam’s story and I went ‘oh SHIT that’s compelling’ and then left them there as a ‘guess I’ll figure that out when I get to Dean’s story lol’

Originally Dean and Cas were supposed to get together after having their souls bonded, and have been in a UST limbo the entire time before that. Mostly because I think the entire concept of ‘we just got married of the soul I guess we should try dating?’ is very funny. CLEARLY the two of them were way more eager to fall in love than I anticipated (thank you Cas for your honesty) but you can still see shades of this original idea here and there (especially in ch35 of TBAM)

I never intended Dean and Benny to connect so well!! Benny was going to reunite with Andrea, she was going to live, and they were going to go off into the world and leave the story. And, uh, here we are. I’m still debating if I need to adjust the relationship tag or not haha. Polyamory is fun, especially when I was planning for Sam to be the polyamorous brother...

Speaking of, I can’t believe I forgot about Sam and his sexuality! If I rewrote TEA I would have had Sam contemplate more on his lack of sexual appetite due to trauma, up until he meets Benny and he gets to rediscover how he wants to be a sexual person

Many of Sam and Dean’s absolutely stupid sibling conversations were lifted near-verbatim from conversations I’ve had with my siblings

And lastly...

Dem where’s Kevin????????????? Where is our sweet baby boy????????

He’s SAFE!! He’s in the Hunter pipeline somewhere cause Sam handed him off to Bobby’s people. He and his mom are safe and at some point they probably got rib sigils like SalmonDean did against angels, but for demons. I didn’t have room in this story for him!!! But my baby boy is SAFE and I want to get him back to university because it’s WHAT HE DESERVES!!!!

To that point: god there were/are SO many characters that I just didn’t include in the story so far because I didn’t feel comfortable including them without stalling the story for them. To that point: pretty much everyone who is alive/dead in s8 is that way in this story, except Bobby who gets to live.

[Check Out Part 2 for reader questions!]

#the love it takes series #to exist again fic #to become a man fic #dem speaks

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kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Where Nothing Stays Buried

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: violence, cursing, blood, spn level gore.

Bad Things Happen Bingo

Square filled: Blood from mouth

Summary: When the reader is hit by an unknown curse, things suddenly turn for the worse in the bunker.

A/N: So this is hella long and I have no idea how to feel about it, but I hope you guys enjoy this hot mess!

“I fucking hate witches, have I ever told you that?”

“About half a million times, Dean. But thank you for reminding me.” You sighed, letting out a yawn near the end of your sentence as you adjusted the straps of your duffel.

The two of you descended the stairs of the bunker, the metal steps creaking slightly beneath you with each step. The hunt had practically been a milk run. A witch a few towns over had been using communing with a spirit of some sort to pit people against each other. The witch was now six feet under and lives were saved. The whole thing had been wrapped up in less than a week and now you and Dean were back home, Sam having chosen to stay behind this time around.

“But seriously, they’re gross and creepy and I hate them immensely.”

“I know, Dean.” Sliding off the straps of your pack, you dropped it onto the map table.

“We still on for movie night, tonight?” Dean questioned, siding up besides you as he began unloading the weapons from his bag onto the table.

“Dude it’s -“ you reached over and grabbed his wrist, flipping it over to look at his watch. “9:30 at night.”

“But. . . Butch and Sundance.”

“Can wait one more day.” You smiled, giving him a pat on the shoulder as you turned. “I’m gonna go shower. I smell like roadkill.”

And just like that you were gone, disappearing down one of the many hallways of the bunker. Dean watched you go, eyes fixed one the corner you had just rounded.

“Well that’s adorable.”

Deans head spun to look towards the library, watching as his brother leaning against one of the pillars.

“You shut up.”

“All I said was that's adorable.”

“Yeah, and I told you to shut up.” Dean hissed, jabbing a finger at his brother before snatching up his own bag and leaving the room.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Around an hour later you found yourself standing at the kitchen counter, the bunker mostly silent as you made yourself a sandwich. Sam was seated at the kitchen table, typing away at something on his laptop, and the last you saw of Dean he was in the library rifling through one of the lore books.

“I didn’t have time to ask earlier, but how was the hunt?”

“It was fine.” You shrugged, licking a crumb off your finger as you continued to assemble your meal. “Thing was practically a milk run. It was almost too easy.”

“Dean told me the two of you got thrown around a lot.”

“Well witches are bitches.” You nodded, picking up the kitchen knife besides you. “But we’re both fine. . . I mean I think Deans a little disheartened that I didn’t want to do a movie night tonight, but he’ll get over that.”

“End it.”

Eyebrows suddenly drawing together in confusion, you looked back over your shoulder at Sam, the hunters eyes still glued to his screen. “What did you say?”

“ I didn’t say anything.”

“Are you sure? I could have sworn-“

“They’re playing you.” The voice came out of nowhere, like a soft breeze, barely audible to even your own ears. You shook your head. You were tired, that was all. You were just hearing things.

But not a second later a wave of warmth rippled through every nerve in your body . For a moment you tried to fight it, unsure exactly what was happening, but you quickly gave up. It wasn’t painful or scary, it was almost as if a heated blanket had been wrapped around you. Your body instantly calmed, shoulders relaxing.

okay, weird. Maybe it was just your body relaxing after a long day. Nothing to worry about

After a second your eyes were suddenly found interest in drifting towards the kitchen knife in your hand. The reflection from the overhead light refracting off the clean metal as you turned it in your hand. You pressed a finger to the top of the blade, not enough to break skin, but just enough to leave an indent.

“Move.”

At the sound of the voice, you did. Your body remaining relaxed as you turned on your heel and headed out of the kitchen, knife still in hand and Sam still too busy to notice.

As you stalked down the hallway, your strides full of purpose, you felt your fingers flex against the handle, almost as if trying to fight the movement all together. At the far end of the hallway, Dean walked into view, a book balanced in his forearm as he read. He glanced up from the page for a half a second, acknowledging your existence, and then looked back down.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Throw it.”

It was only when Dean glanced back down at his book that he had to do a double take, looking up just in time with wide eyes to see you pull your arm back, and with a light hop in your step, throw the kitchen knife down the hallway. Your steps not even faltering even after the utensil left your palm.

The hunter quickly ducked as the knife flipped end over end before burying itself in the wall behind him with a solid thwunk, the handle quivering from the impact. With wide eyes Dean looked up at the blade and then back to you.

“Y/N, what the hell?!”

There was no answer from you as you closed the distance between you and him. Still stunned by what had just happened, Dean didn’t have time to brace himself before you were sweeping your leg underneath him and knocking him to the floor, pinning him beneath you instantly.

“Y/N!”

He could see that you were winding up, your hand pulling back. In whatever way he could to stop you, his own fingers wrapped around your wrists, struggling to keep you from plowing foreword. Unfortunately that didn’t help, and even though your wrist was locked in his grasp, you brought your elbow upward, slamming it into his chin. Losing his hold on you his hand slipped.

Possession. It had to be possession. . . Or maybe a hex bag? One of those two.

As you delivered the first solid punch, the voice continued to coax you foreword, whispering softly into your ear. You listened. Giving yourself fully over to the force rippling through you.

“Y/N- listen to me-“ Dean gasped, eyes wide as he watched you bring your hand back. “Somethings- somethings wrong.”

Another solid punch had his head knocking back against the linoleum floor, a groan leaving his lips. He didn’t notice the commotion down the hall until your weight of your body was gone and you were suddenly being pulled off him by two strong sets of hands.

Gasping in a lungful of air, he slid back, his back hitting the wall as he tried to gather himself. Both Sam and Cas were holding you tightly back as you tried to lunge at Dean, a fire blazing in your eyes.

“Let me go!”

“Y/N-“

Clearly they were trying to keep their hold on you somewhat loose as if to not hurt you, but that was a terrible idea because you managed to fight them off and throw yourself forward as Dean again. His hunter reflexes kicked in before he could stop and all of a sudden he was driving his fist into your jaw, making you stumble back.

This time Sam and Cas grabbed you with more force, looping their arms underneath your armpits as they pulled you back.

“Dean, what the hell is going on?!”

“Does it look like I fuckin know?!” Using the back of his hand to wipe the blood away from his mouth, he watched the two struggle to keep you back.

He had punched you. He could see the welt already forming on your jaw. What the hell was happening?

“We need to tie her down-“ Sam struggled with the words, your strength still being difficult to keep under control.

“The dungeon.” Cas spoke, looking to Sam for approval before the two were pulling you down the hallway. Your heels kicked against the floor as you were dragged backwards screaming.

And then the words to leave your mouth had Dean heart stop in his chest momentarily.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” You screamed, face pulled up in pain as you struggled. Your eyes both glassy and full of rage as you fought. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!”

A second later you were dragged around the corner, you yells continuing to echo through the bunker. Trying to process what was happening, Dean slumped back against the wall, eyes full of confusion and pain.

Something happened on that case that he didn’t see. . . Because that wasn’t you. Not at all.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Twenty minutes later, Dean found himself seated at one of the library tables, an ice pack pressed firmly to his eye. He had tried to go see you after you had been dragged into the dungeon, but one thing was very clear : Whatever was infecting you was making you target him. Sam and Cas had told him it wasn’t a good idea to be within your line of sight.

“She still angry as a little viper?” Dean mumbled, his eyes cast downward when he heard the two enter the room. He knew that answer though already. You had practically been screaming nonstop for the last twenty minutes. The sounds muffled by the walls of the bunker.

“Yeah. She’s locked down. She’s not getting free of the bindings we put on her.” Sam sighed, sinking into one of the vacant seats across from him. It was only when Dean finally looked up, did a hiss escape his teeth. Clearly you had gotten a few good licks in with both Sam and Cas. The two sporting several welts and scratches.

“Jeez.”

“Yeah. Let’s just say she’s not holding back or pulling her punches.” Sam winced.

“It’s gotta be possession. It’s gotta be.”

“We already checked. It’s not.” Cas butted in. “Plus, she has an anti-possession tattoo, remember?”

“So then it’s a hexbag.”

“Guess again. We didn’t find anything on her.”

“Well then what the hell is happening to her?” Dean picked up his head fully. It felt like his thoughts were moving at a million miles an hour. “She was fine when we got back.”

“I don’t know. Could be a curse maybe?” Sam shrugged. “Something that latched onto her during the case?”

There was a pause as Dean sucked in his lips, silently contemplating what to do. “I want to see her.”

“Dean, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. She seems to be the most angry at you. I mean, she did attack me and Cas as well but. . . Even just the mention of your name while we were in there made her go ballistic.”

Dean ignored his brother, instead moving to push himself out of his seat, dropping the ice pack on the table. “Well we cant help her if we’re all just sitting her twiddling our thumbs.” He paused again, looking back down at his hand. “. . . I hit her Sam.”

“It was instinct. You were protecting yourself.”

“It doesn’t matter, Cas! I punched her and I-“ Dean knew he shouldn’t feel guilty but he couldn’t help it. He had hurt you. You. One of the people he cared about the most. He needed to make this right. He needed to help you.

*. *. *. *. *.

Struggling against the stiff bindings keeping your arms securely bound to your chest, you leaned forward in your seat, taking in the shackles on your ankles. The room was empty aside from yourself. Sam and Cas having locked you in here a good five minutes ago.

“They’re talking about you, you know.”

“Let them.”

A sudden shadow off to your side suddenly caught your attention, making you look up. You thought you were alone. Clearly that was not correct.

“You’re the voice I’ve been hearing.”

“That I am.”

The shadow slowly slid into the light, revealing a thin figure wrapped in black. She moved like smoke, her hair long and a shade of purple so dark that you originally thought it was black when you first looked. Hers eyes shining like molten golden. A soft smile played on her dark lips as she moved foreword.

“Who are you?”

You see, for most people in this situation they would be scared out of their minds. But that didn’t happen. Not to you at least. All you felt was calm, the same way one might feel when held in their mothers arms.

“A god. But that doesn’t matter.” Her smile widened as she dragged a nail across your cheek. “What matters is that I’m helping you.”

“Oh.”

At that same time, the doors to the dungeon were pulled back open by one Dean Winchester, his brother and Cas standing behind him. You expected them to say something, to direct their attention towards the unknown woman besides you, but then you realized it was because they couldn’t see her.

Only you could.

“Look at them. So oblivious to the pain they’ve brought you.” She tutted, head tilting slightly in amusement.

You looked past Dean as if he wasn’t there, instead directing your attention towards Sam. “Sam, let me out.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Let. Me. Out.” Taking time to sound out each word, you began your struggle against your bindings once more. It was like there was in itch underneath your skin, and the only way to get rid of it was to attack.

“Y/N, we wanna help you.” Dean tried, attempting to take a step closer, only for you to lash out even more. He stepped back.

“He’s lying. They don’t help people. All they do is send them to their deaths.” The woman whispered, leaning down close to your ear. “Think about it.”

“You even listening to us?”

Your eyes blazed again as you looked up through the strands of hair hanging over your eyes. “I want you dead. . . I want you all dead.”

That caught them slightly off guard. The three men sharing a look between them like they didn’t know what to do.

“Look at you.” The figure cooed, hand coming to cup you cheek. The contact making you relax slightly. “They cause you nothing but suffering. Don’t you want to be free of it all?”

“Yes.”

“Think about it. How you’ve lost so many friends because they roped them into to helping them fight their battles.”

It was like throwing fuel onto a fire, and like a million times before you attempted to lunge foreword. The rage running through you like a wild animal.

“You’re terrible people! You keep getting the people I care about killed!” You snapped, almost on the verge of tears. “It’s like we’re all pawns in your game! Charlie, Bobby, Kevin-“

You ignored the heartbreak on Deans features. The hunter clearly losing his battle at hiding his emotions.

“Unravel him.”

“Am I next? The next person in your line of sacrifices? The next person to give up their life to keep you going?”

“It has never been like that. Ever!” Dean swallowed thickly, trying to keep his voice from cracking.

“Liar.” You paused, suddenly a new idea was slipping into your brain. “You know what, let’s make this all easier. Instead of waiting for my eventual death to come, no doubt somehow because of you. . . Just kill me now.”

“Y/N-“ Dean choked out your name like he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “Don’t say that.” One second you wanted them dead, and now you wanted them to kill you. He didn't know which was worse.

“Why not? It’s true isn’t it? I’d finally be free of you, and all the death that follows you. If I can’t kill you-“ you gestured to your restrains keeping you from going anywhere. “this is the next best option.”

“Y/N, we care about you. We’re not going to do that.” Cas spoke up, reminding you that he was there.

“They’re trying to pull you in. Don’t let them. They think your weak.”

“If you care about me, you’ll kill me.”

Dean opened his mouth as if to speak, but only snapped it shut once more. Shaking his head he pressed passed his brother and Cas. He couldn’t be around this. This was a whole other type of pain.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Three days.

Three days of combing through the lore for anything that might point them in the right direction, and nothing. Resting his chin in his palm, Dean flipped the page of the book he was currently reading through. Sam sat across from him in a similar position. They had barely gotten any sleep in days, too busy trying to find a way to help you. A moment later, Cas was walking back into the room, even the angel had a tired expression.

“Well?”

“Well, she is still refusing to eat and I can’t remember the last time she actually drank the water we brought her.”

Dean cursed under his breath. Along with the violence and hurtful words, you now refused to cooperate. It was like you were trying to get them to snap.

“I’ll go check on her.”

“Dean-“

Dean was already down the steps before either of them could stop him. “don’t try and stop me.”

You were exactly where they last left you, your head hanging low up until the point in which Dean stepped into the room. At the sound of his foot pattern you looked up. The fire in your eyes still hadn’t gone out, and he could practically see the fury radiating off of you in waves.

“Well look who decided to visit.”

“I didn’t come here to talk.” Letting out a deep sigh, he knelt down to inspect your restraints, making sure they hadn’t loosened at all.

“You finally come here to finish me off like I asked?” Flexing your fingers you leaned foreword, the hunter looking up to find his face inches from your own.

“I ain’t killing you. Ever.”

“You’re just a pawn in their game. They will still be ready to sacrifice you at a moments notice for the greater good. That’s all you are. An pawn.”

Rising back to his feet, Dean made his way around you to check the chains keeping you to the chair. The heavy metal had been looped several times around you, a lock fastening it to a ring at the base of the chair.

“Do you know how many people would still be alive if you hadn’t let them wander into your lives? So many. It’s a miracle I’ve lasted this long.”

Closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, the hunter tried to ignore your words. You were trying to make him snap.

“Stop talking-“ he began, only for his words to fall short as he glimpsed something beneath the collar of your shirt. Taking a step back he tilted his head before suddenly rushing to pull down the back of your shirt. “What the hell?”

With a newfound urgency the older Winchester dove his hand into the pocket of his jeans to fish out his phone. Snapping a quick picture he was gone before you could use anymore words against him.

The hallway towards the library had never felt longer as he rushed through it, eyes fixated on the photo.

“Sam, I think I got something!”

Both heads turned quickly as he entered the library, his feet momentarily sliding on the wooden floor.

“Good, because I think I got something too.” Turning the book around on the tabletop he pushed it towards Dean and Cas before taking Deans phone from his extended hand and looking down at the picture. “That’s what I thought.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the five fingered hand of Eris.”

“. . . Okay I’m gonna need a bit more than that, Sam.”

The hunter sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Eris is the Greek goddess of strife and discord. it says here that she’s marks her victims with the symbol, basically feeds them lies and tries to pit them against others.”

“Goes it say why she keeps lashing out more towards me, and not you? I mean she aint giving any of us friendly looks, me especially.”

“It says the stronger the emotional attachment, the stronger the hold. but that's about it.” Sam shrugged.

“Alright, then how do we stop it? Get rid of the symbol?”

“Um- give me a sec.” swinging the book back around, Sam flipped through a few pages before stopping. “Yeah, you can stop it but— oh.”

“Oh? What’s that mean oh? Was that a good oh or a bad oh?

“There’s not exactly a spell to get rid of it.”

“Not exactly?” Dean repeated, looking back over his shoulder at Cas who merely shrugged.

Sam pressed his lips together. Dean wasn’t gonna like this. He wasn’t gonna like this one bit. Hell, he didn’t like this- but it was the only option in the book.

“Sam?”

“All we need is a silver knife.”He could see Dean buffering, the hunter trying to put two and two together. He gave him another minute before adding “we have to cut it out of her.”

“what?” Suddenly Deans voice was much quieter, the man taking a step back from the table. “no, there has to be another way.”

“This is literally the only way to stop it. There is no other way.”

Dean already felt terrible for hitting you that one time, and now they were telling him they had to literally carve out a symbol that was basically branded to your back? No. That was too much.

“You can’t ask me to do that.”

“You don’t have to. I can do it, but someone needs to hold her down. We can’t do it if she’s chained to that chair.” Already rising from his own seat, Sam looked past Dean towards Cas. “Do you still have that blade we found in that crypt a few months back?”

“Yes.”

“Then that should work.” Sam nodded, it was only when he and Cas were at the door did they realize Dean had yet to move.

“Dean.”

Snapping out of the zone, the hunter nodded before quietly following them. Just the thought of bringing harm to you was too much. The image making his stomach flip.

The three made quick work of releasing you from the confining chains, the metal clanging against the cement floor of the dungeons as they slid from your body.

“Finally come to kill me like I asked?” You spoke, eyes glancing towards the blade in Sam’s palm. The younger Winchester remained silent, watching as Dean suddenly replaced the thick chains you had grown accustom to with a pair of handcuffs.

What happened next was so fast that you barely registered it. Dean suddenly tugged you firmly against his chest, locking his arms around you. The action made you struggle in his grasp as he sunk to his knees, bringing you down with him. It would be easier keeping you still this way.

“What the hell are y-“

It was Cas who stepped in next, pressing two fingers to your temple. Dean wasn’t exactly sure what the angel was doing but he felt you slightly loosen in his arms, your struggling slowly stilling as you panted.

“Sam, do it.”

The hunter didn’t need to be told twice before he was pulling up the back of your shirt. The marking was nestled between your shoulder blades and was almost the size of Deans palm. It looked like a brand, two opposing arrows converging at a common point.

“Hold her still.”

“I fucking am-“ Dean hissed through his teeth, turning his head away as Sam brought the tip of the blade to your flesh. Dean didn’t need to be told what was happening because a second later that’s when you started to scream, lurching in his arms. The heat from your breath seeped into the fabric of his shirt as you cried out, struggling in his grip.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry-

That was the only thing running through his head as he buried his face in your shoulder, clutching you tighter to keep you from moving. Soon enough your screams mixed with sobs and Dean couldn’t tell if he was feeling your tears or his own. For the longest time Dean thought he could never truly feel someone else’s pain, but those screams of yours came close. They ripped through him like shards of glass and brought a whole new type of agony. The worst part was it felt like it went on for an eternity, but once it stopped, Dean was still afraid to loosen his hold. Your screams faded into sobs and your weight fully fell into him, face buried in his shoulder.

“Please tell me it’s over.”

At the sight of Sam pulling away with bloody hands, Deans stomach lurched again. That was your blood.Yours.

“It’s over.” Sam looked towards Cas, the angel lifting his hand from your temple before touching it to your back. A warm light spilled over you skin momentarily and then he was pulling back.

“I’ve healed most of it, but she still needs bandages.”

Seeing that Dean wasn’t going to be moving, Sam nodded already moving towards the door. “I’ll go get em. I need to wash my hands anyways.”

“Okay-“ Dean sucked in a lungful of air, suddenly feeling as if he had just run a marathon. “Okay.”

The worst part was over.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The bunker was quiet. At least much more than it had been before. As Dean made his way down the dimly lit hallway he saw that your room was still empty. It had been for the past week, ever since they cut that marking out of you. Moving past your door way, he stepped into the dungeon, knocking on the door frame to alert you of his presence.

“You gonna come out and join us for dinner?”

“No.”

“Y/N, you’ve barely eaten.” Dean sighed, stepping into the room. “Plus, you need to sleep in an actual bed. Not on the floor.”

Your back was facing him, knees tucked into your chest as you let your hand run over the devils trap beneath you. “I’m not leaving.”

Another sigh. He knew you would say that. Even though the symbol was off of you, you were terrified you might hurt someone again. . . So you had chosen to stay in the dungeon. Sam and Cas had taken off your restraints days ago but you had clamped a shackle back over your ankle for good measure.

“You’re not gonna hurt anyone. Sam got that thing off of you.”

You couldn’t allow yourself to face him. Your eyes instead going to your hands. “We don’t know that. . . “ you paused, eyes stinging with inside tears. “I hurt you. I said terrible, awful things to you- I tried to kill you.”

“It was a curse. That happens.”

“If it was the other way around, could you let it go?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought.”

Suddenly Dean was kneeling down in front of you, big jade eyes staring at you with tenderness. “It’s not your fault.”

“I just- I don’t want you believing anything of what I said. I don't want you thinking for even a second that I hate you.”

“I don’t.”

“I told you guys that you use your friends like pawns. That it’s your fault that we’ve lost people. . . That’s not- that’s not true.” You stumbled on the words, finding it difficult to speak.

“Hey, hey it okay. I get it.” He squeezed your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. “I went through something similar when I had the mark of Cain. I was spitting out stuff that wasn’t true as well.”

“How can you forgive me?”

“The same way you forgave me when I had the mark.” Dean mumbled against your hairline. “Now how bout we get you out of here and get back to normal?”

“How do we do that?”

“One step at a time.”

“. . .I really am sorry.”

“I know.”

SPN Taglist: (Still Open)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy @supernaturalenchanted@emptycanvasposts @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo @xoxoaudreymarie @greenarrowhead @mrsjenniferwinchester @mysticalfuncollectorus @brebolin @biahblue @noahandthegiraffe @hhiggs @mila-dans @mrsmaybankhere @malindacath @littleagxs @deanwanddamons @idksupernatural

#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #SPN #spn x reader #spn imagine #bi-danvers writing

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bookswitchcraftandcats · 3 years

Text

Rainy Days (Part 4 of 4)

Link to AO3 ----- Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Emma and Julian are in charge of the London Institute for a week and find a box that once belonged to Cordelia Carstairs and contains poems written to her by James Herondale. The story switches between Emma and Julian and oneshots about things that happened in Jordelia's life to inspire the poems.

Sorry if the formatting for the poems is messed up, I tried.

Thank you all so much for reading this story, I really enjoyed writing it <3

---------------------------------------------------------------------

“Daisies must have been her favorite flower or something” Emma says as they look around the room. Looking now that was a very obvious statement. Even some of the blankets neatly folded on the end of the bed had daisies embroidered on them. The wall paper was lined with a daisy print and on the box itself was intricately carved flowers. There are also some very old flowers that were carefully pressed and put in the box next to the poems. They were afraid to touch them for fear that they would fall apart.

“Yeah, maybe I will do a painting of her when we go home,” Julian says thoughtfully, “I should include some daisies if I do.”

“I’m sure it will be great,” Emma says thinking of his other paintings. He has done so many great pieces that if he was a mundane she was sure his work would be in an art gallery. The institute itself had turned into a sort of gallery these days, some people visited just to see the murals Julian painted on the walls.

They both were laying back on the bed and Jules had his arm around Emma. This was a nice day off after the busy day they had yesterday, they had run into some demons by the river and were outnumbered. Luckily, Emma is the best shadowhunter of their generation. Her wielding Cortana was definitely a scene he wanted to paint when he got home. The grace of her movements when she was fighting was like a dance, he could never quite capture the movement with a set of acrylics.

He checked his watch, they had plenty of time before Jem and Tessa would get here.

“We should read another poem,” he suggested. “They are kind of interesting to see what they said to each other 100 years ago.”

“Ok, I will,” she says, reaching into the box again for another poem. There was one titled Rainy Days.

“That seems fitting for today,” Julian says, glancing out the window. Emma reads the poem aloud.

Rainy Days

Outside the sky is dark and gray, The rain falls in puddles on the ground, We are in the library by the fireplace, Listening as it down pours all afternoon.

The heat of the flames warms the room, You by my side warms my heart. Even on the darkest of dreary days, You light up everything by being there.

Now you are asleep next to me, While I write about our day. I'm starting to think that I quite like, These warm and rainy days.

It was another rainy spring day in London, the snow had just melted and it was still very cold out. You could hear the wind blowing all around outside, it was quite the stormy day. None of the merry thieves or their family members would be venturing out today, they too were curled up by a fire, just like Cordelia and James.

James now looked at the sleeping Cordelia on his lap, she looked so at peace. Her soft red hair was undone and free from it’s unusual style, he combed his fingers gently through it. He thought about the day they had had. Today was very good weather for writing. With a notebook in his hand he began to come up with ideas.

------

“Good morning,” Cordelia says, sitting next to James at the kitchen table. She poured a cup of tea and looked out the window, it was raining very hard and forming puddles in the street.

“Good morning” James responds, reaching for some breakfast, “Looks like any plans for today are cancelled”

“I think it is far too cold to go adventuring in London,” Cordelia says with a shiver, it was almost spring but they still had many cold days ahead of them.

They finished their breakfast talking about rain and what crazy things their friends have been up to lately. Christopher had been working on a new invention, Mathew caused some trouble at the Hell Ruelle, nothing much different than usual. They then decided to head upstairs to the study where they could sit by the warm fire and play a game of chess.

“Shâm-Mât” Cordelia says, winning her 12th consecutive game in a row. James just laughs as they reset the board for another game. There isn’t much to do and he is still holding on to hope that he can win at least one round.

“You're too good at this,” James says with a smirk. She has always been brilliant at battle strategy, she could outsmart any opponent she faced. He looked at her with a smile as she planned her next move, her face was full of concentration. He could feel her plotting his demise.

They played chess until it was time for lunch, the sky was still gray with rain clouds. They then decided to venture to the library to look for a book to read on this cold and rainy day. James walked over to put more wood on the fire while Cordelia went to look for a book. They settled on the couch by the fire, Cordelia leaning her head against James’s shoulder while he read from an old volume of The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens. There were a lot of Dickens novels in the library mostly from James’s parents' fascination with the author. Will and Tessa were both staying in Wales for a week and were not at the institute, it was just James and Cordelia.

She began to fall asleep and he smiled as he see the book on the night stand. He grabbed his notebook and began to write.

---------

So now James was still sitting on the couch trying to write a poem about the letter but he realized the poem wasn’t what he should be writing about, he spent the whole day with Cordelia and she was more fierce and interesting than any storm.

______________________________

“That was very fitting for today,” Emma says, putting the poems back in the box. She looks at the time quickly, Jem and Tessa would be there soon.

“It must rain here a lot,” Julian says, “I miss the beach” They laugh, they would be back in LA soon enough to deal with the chaos that ensues there.

They had just renovated the institute more and had been busy painting more murals on the walls. They also updated their computer and Jules got a laptop which made some things easier and more organized.

They hear footsteps coming down the hall and Tessa looks into the room.

“I see you found James and Cordelia’s room,” she says with a smile.

“I haven’t been here in years,” Jem says looking around the room. Tessa was looking at the box in Emma’s hands.

“I see you found Cordelia’s jewelry box,” Tessa smiles as though she is remembering her, “She is an ancestor of yours, she was a Carstairs before she married my son.”

“James, right? Did he write poetry?” Emma asks. Tessa looked a bit confused.

“Yes, he did. But I thought I had all his notebooks saved at my house, did you find one?”

“We didn’t find a whole notebook but we did find a few poems he wrote to Cordelia.” Jules says. Emma opens the box and pulls out the pieces of paper.

“I always wondered where the ripped out pages went, I always assumed they were just rough drafts that got tossed away.” She paused for a moment, “did you two happen to find a book called The Beautiful Cordelia. I have been looking for it for a while now and I know Cordelia had it.”

Emma pointed over to the shelf they had originally found the box on. Tessa pulled out the leather bound book that had The Beautiful Cordelia across the top in fancy calligraphy and a small “by Lucie Herondale” on the bottom.

“Thank you,” Tessa said, holding the book. Jem was looking at something across the room.

“Hey, did some of our stuff get moved up here too,” he asked, picking up a stele.

“I think so, did you find something?” Tessa asks.

“This was Will’s stele,” He says, handing it to her and looking slightly incredulous. “How much of our stuff is still here?” Tessa laughs.

“Leave some for the other generations, we don’t want to fill our house with 100 years worth of clutter.”

They all turn to leave and go get something to eat. They would never forget the poems they found, the remnants of someone else's rainy day, of another time period far away yet so near to them. While the day was dreary, dark, and wet, never let the weather depict whether there is a storm cloud raining on your day off.

_____________________________

Cordelia looks at the poems one more time with a smile before placing them in her new jewelry box. It had been an anniversary gift from James. It is wooden with her name and intricate little daisies carved onto it. The box truly is beautiful. It had been raining so she took the opportunity to organize a bit but now the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds.

James walked over and kissed her on the cheek while she latched the box shut.

“ We were invited to a picnic in the park, just the usual group. Do you want to go?” He asks, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“That sounds lovely,” she says, standing up from the bed and carrying the box over to the shelf. She puts it between The Beautiful Cordelia and a book of persian mythology her mother had given her. She slipped on her shoes and took James’s hand. They walked off happy as can be, standing in the sun for a change instead of being stuck inside on those rainy days.

Tag list: @fortheloveofthecarstairs @thehotfaeriethreesome @shadowrunner2000 @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @surrounded-by-exquisite-clutter @gabtapia @niathesanctuary-bolastair-kanej

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list :)

#james herondale #cordelia carstairs #emma carstairs #julian blackthorn #the last hours #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #jordelia #jemma blackstairs

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kookiebunnii · 4 years

Text

d4u || easy employment

march 2019. jungkook had his first ever job interview today. i told him i believed in him but, to be honest, i wasn’t sure if we were going to finish a carton of ice cream on the couch afterwards because he landed the job or because he got rejected on the spot. hopefully it’s the former.

pairing: bestfriend!jungkook x reader

genre: slice of life, humor

word count: 2.6k

warnings: some inappropriate humor

“Y/N? Can you help me?”

You straighten up from where you’re leaning on the kitchen counter, popping cherry tomatoes into your mouth for a mid-afternoon snack. It was Wednesday, meaning you were able to clamber home as soon as your early morning classes ended. Biting into another tomato and savoring the tart sweetness coating your tongue, you ask, “What’s up?”

Jungkook walks up to you and snatches the next tomato right out of your fingers before tossing it into his own mouth with gusto. He smiles at the way your face immediately drops in disappointment before answering smartly, “I don’t know how to tie a tie.”

Raising your eyebrows, you give his form a quick up-and-down before immediately noticing that the boy was dressed quite differently than usual. He typically left the house in whatever oversized tee or old hoodie he could find, but this time he was wearing a nice button-up with khakis. Pushing aside thoughts of how to get back at Guk for taking your last cherry tomato, you decide instead to inquire about what the occasion might be.

“What’s with the outfit?”

He spins around once for you, just to show off, before he replies, “I’ve got a job interview.”

You laugh while washing the bowl you’d previously used to house your snack for the day. Before drying your hands on a kitchen towel, you can’t help but check him out once again. He looked different for sure, but it wasn’t like you’d never seen the kid dressed up. You practically took wedding pictures with him last month.

So why was your pulse thrumming like a teen girl in a young adult novel?

Refraining from the urge to slap yourself, which was a very difficult task, you continue, “Where at? Must be a weird place if they’re willing to consider you.”

He frowns to show his dismay at your words before he strides closer to you shyly like a child wanting approval, “It’s at a magazine publisher’s. They’re looking for a photographer, someone to provide a few shots for their articles.”

Your jaw drops and you grip the sides of his arms before squeaking in excitement, “That sounds great! That’s perfect for you.”

Jungkook seems a lot happier now that you’re as thrilled about the job prospect as he is. He brushes some stray hairs away from your face to tuck behind your ear before saying, “It sure is. My friend is one of their writers, he recommended me.”

You take hold of the bright red tie that’s casually slung around his shoulders. It’s slightly wrinkled near the middle, a likely result of Jungkook failing multiple times to correctly tie a knot. The idea of him struggling with something so small makes you giggle, and you instantly wrap the fabric around your hands.

“Good thing I know how this works. We should probably go with a black or blue tie though, it’ll go with your shirt better,” you suggest, poking him in the chest as an indication for him to lead you to his closet.

He immediately understands your prodding, turning around to make a beeline towards his bedroom door. His obedience makes you smile, so you tug the hem of his shirt in your fingers as he leads the way. It’s usually easier for you to make this gesture, given the looseness of his regular clothing. However, with the pressed shirt tucked into the waistband of his pants, there is very little give in the fabric. You’re momentarily mesmerized by the change, watching the way your hand hangs onto the back of a man, instead of a boy.

“You’re not looking at my ass, right?”

Rolling your eyes, even though you knew he couldn’t see you, you grip his shirt tighter in order to pinch the skin underneath. He yelps, trying to grab you in retaliation, but you’re fast enough to quickly dodge inside his room and start sorting through the ties hanging from the inside of the closet door.

Laughing loudly, you pull a deep blue tie dotted with smiling whales off the hook and wave it in front of your best friend. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair before replying, “That was Jin’s birthday gift last year.”

“He has good taste,” you muse, giving the comedic tie another glance before returning it to its place. The fact that Jungkook had the tie sitting alongside his others, ones that are definitely more practical, says a lot about him. Even if he would likely never wear the thing, he respected his senior enough to keep the present. Under the typical silly and absentminded behavior of your roommate, he has a good heart.

“Should we go with the black one?” he suggests, walking forward to tug another tie off the hook above where your hand was resting.

Leaning your head against the closet door in thought, you examine the fabric in his hands before giving him a curt nod, “It’ll do.”

Seconds later, Jungkook is sitting on a corner of the bed with his legs slightly apart so that you’re able to stand between them with relative ease. You try your absolute hardest to focus on the task at hand, and not at the way he’s looking at you. It’s silly, the way your head fills with irrelevant thoughts when you knew that you were fantasizing about a boy that likely only ever saw you as the chill friend who was easy to tease. As you slide the tie under his collar while holding your fingers as steady as possible, you narrowly miss the way his Adam’s apple quickly dips in nervousness. Even if it was an irrational thought, you wanted to believe that your touch was doing somethingto him.

“You should be grateful that back in the day, my prom date didn’t know how to tie a tie either,” you chortle, your movements a little uncertain since it wasn’t everyday you were tying ties for men, but overall your memory served you well.

He grinned, “I remember him. He was trying to kiss you the whole night.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Jungkook laughs at the clear discomfort on your face, before gently patting the side of your hip as if to apologize. His touch is brief, not staying longer than necessary, but enough for the pressure to linger against your waist. Thinking about this causes you to mess up the next step, so you curse and start all over again.

“You’ve never had an interview before. Are you prepared?” you ask, curious but mostly just trying to hide the fact that you were back to square one due to being easily distracted.

His lips press together in thought, as he unconsciously leans back and uses his hands to prop himself up. You’re forced to follow the motion, so you also lean yourself slightly forward in order to prevent yourself from accidentally choking the boy. Not that that wouldn’t be entertaining.

“I read whatever popped up on the first page of the Google after I searched ‘how to ace your interview’,” he straightens up again after noticing the uncomfortable position he’s put you in, “It’s probably good enough.”

You shake your head, clicking your tongue in disapproval. Quickly finishing and straightening the knot, you stand back to admire your handiwork before saying, “That’s not the same as actually practicing. If you’re ready, let’s do a practice run before you head out.”

He looks up at you like a startled rabbit before he tries his best to regain his composure, “That’s probably not necessary…”

“Of course it is! Pretend I’m your interviewer,” you take a seat in his bright orange gaming chair, giving it a spin just for your own entertainment.

Jungkook appears slightly out of his element, but you recognize the exact moment he makes up his mind to humor you for the time being. Immediately, the air about him changes as he straightens up. Even though he is sitting, it feels like he towers over you. You wonder momentarily if out of all the things Jungkook is good at, acing interviews will just be another on that list.

“Welcome, Mr. Jeon. How are you doing?” you settle into your role easily, crossing your legs as you briefly compliment yourself on your own persona. Perhaps if your career in international business doesn’t pan out after graduation, you could try auditioning for a few television shows.

Giving you an easy smile, the one he usually uses on adults he wants to make a good impression on, he replies, “Very well, thank you. And you?”

Surprisingly, he answers all of your following questions with confidence and poise. Even if he briefly pauses for a few seconds to consider his answers at times, you knew that that would simply give him extra points. Interviewers usually liked signs that the candidate was considering his or her answer carefully, and not just rattling off whatever popped into their heads. You really shouldn’t have doubted Jungkook’s abilities, even if it was his first time trying something. Perhaps you’ll continue your quest of “find something Jungkook is bad at” some other time.

“For our last question, we’d like to know what you consider your greatest weakness,” you chirp, knowing that this exact question used to trip you up all the time. It was easy to make up something you were good at and try to brag about it without coming off as arrogant. However, what could you say that would simultaneously be accepted as a weakness yet not make you look totally inept? You hated this question.

“I’m too handsome,” Jungkook announced proudly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His nose wrinkles as he smiles, and you know immediately he wants you to laugh at his comment.

You decide not to be the obedient counterpart to his comedy routine, so you say, “I’m afraid I’ll have to disagree with that one Mr. Jeon. Thank you for coming but unfortunately we will not be-”

“You couldn’t even pretend to humor me?” he gets up to try and pull you out of your chair, which is an easy feat for him.

“Good girls don’t tell lies.”

“And you’re supposed to be a good girl?” he replies, raising an eyebrow as a dangerous smirk tugs against his lips.

Whatever was happening, it was definitely doing something to you. His comment was definitely harmless, but given how much you were struggling with your thoughts recently, it easy threatened the wall you were trying to keep up. You bite your lip, trying to casually brush it off and think of a snide comment to counter with, but your mind refused to operate.

“There’s still some time left,” he says after the silence drags for a beat longer than it should. You press your fingers against your cheeks to make sure you’re not beet red, as he paces over to a full-length mirror attached to the wall and starts fixing his hair. You don’t see any issues with it, but if fiddling with his locks made him feel better, than so be it. Standing behind him, you notice the way your reflection is beaming with pride. Even if you were too bashful to admit it, seeing him all dressed up with your help made you feel accomplished. You had a hand in helping him out, thus his successes could also be counted as you own.

“Don’t we look good together?” Jungkook chirps, bring you forward with an arm around your shoulders. You’re shorter than him, so the gesture looks a bit weird in the mirror, especially given the dichotomy of your outfits. Next to Jungkook’s office worker look, you look more like the casual homebody in your ratty t-shirt and shorts.

“I think it’s mainly me,” you strike a pose and give yourself a once-over.

He laughs, and you immediately smile at the familiar sound. Busying himself with packing various items in his backpack, you watch from the sidelines as your best friend prepares. You hand him his freshly printed resume when you notice it laying on his dresser. He gives you his mumbled thanks while scanning to room the ensure that he hadn’t forgotten anything else.

“One last thing.”

You unbutton the cuffs of his shirtsleeves, rolling them up so they end just under his elbows. Smoothing out any remaining wrinkles from your ministrations, you look up at him with a satisfied expression. He observes your newest addition before deadpanning, “What’s this for?”

“It looks better this way. Haven’t you seen those memes about how men get ten times more attractive with their sleeves rolled up?” you muse, reaching up in an attempt to squeeze his cheeks but your victim expert dodges away at the last minute.

“How could I be more attractive though?” he teases, striking the same pose you had earlier in front of the mirror.

“Alright that’s your cue to leave.”

He chuckles, slinging his backpack on his shoulder and heading out of his room. You follow him dutifully, hoping to at least see him out the door. You can feel the tiny buzz of anticipation along your arms, knowing that Jungkook had to face the upcoming challenge on his own. You knew he could do it, but you worry nevertheless.

“Hey um, don’t make fun of me…but could I get a hug?”

The awkward way Jungkook stands at the door, arms slightly raised at his sides in preparation for the hug he was requesting, almost made you melt on the spot. He was comfortable with physical touch for sure, but he had never really asked you for a hug like this before. It was like he had this big boy image he wanted to portray daily, but you suppose that he must be even more nervous than you are if he’s willing to shed that in front of you—even at the expense of you teasing him about it for the next month.

You don’t answer, holding back the usual quip you’d throw at him. On a normal day, perhaps you’d coo and slyly ask him if he’s turning into a soft baby boy, but you knew that this was a serious request. Bounding up to him, you wrap your arms around his waist and give him the embrace he requested. Doing your best to convey all the joy and hope into the hug, you relish the way he holds you just as tight with his face buried in your neck. His breath tickles your hair, and you hope that somehow despite how close the two of you were, he couldn’t feel the way your heart betrayed you. Because if the proximity meant he could feel it pounding a mile a minute, then maybe he’d realize just how much more he was starting to mean to you.

“I’ll be back by dinner,” he says, patting the top of your head as he does so, before he opens the door in preparation to head to his interview.

When he turns back one last time, as if he needs one last look at you for encouragement, you give him your brightest smile and a thumbs up.

You knew in that moment that you would always be behind him—every step of the way.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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gravelyhumerus · 3 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 8

Title: “I may just take your breath away” / Sweater Weather AU

Relationship: Jemily

Word count: 35,604

Summary:

Penelope hacks the college. JJ pets a cat. There are three blowjobs. Need I say more?

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

JJ adjusted the textbook in her hands, rolling onto her side to get comfortable with it. Behind her, was the calming sounds of Penelope’s pop music and her dancing fingertips as she typed code into her computer.

She had only a few pages left to read, but she was having a hard time focusing. JJ’s brain kept drifting to the events of that weekend. On Halloween, they played spin the bottle. JJ’s spin landed right on Emily, meaning that they had to kiss.

But it was not chaste. As Penelope most eloquently put it: “you two were seconds from ripping each other’s clothes off in front of us.”

JJ couldn’t wrap her head around it.

Emily had really kissed her. There was tongue. It was not a peck to play the game; they had gone at it like teenagers in the backseat of a car at a lovers’ lane.

It made reading her textbook difficult when she knew what Emily’s tongue felt like against hers. It made doing her essay challenging when she could remember the taste of her lips. It made doing just about anything next to impossible when JJ was desperate to kiss Emily again.

“Did you know that it’s Hotch’s birthday tomorrow?” Penelope asked, spinning in her chair to look at JJ.

“Wait, what?” JJ asked. She looked up from her textbook.

“So... I’ve hacked into the college database,” Penelope said, turning back to her computer, her hands were once again typing a mile a minute. “Because of the whole thing with Reid not telling us about his birthday, the poor thing, and I didn’t want to miss anyone else’s.”

“Maybe we could do a co-birthday?” JJ mused, thinking about the logistics of that.

“You read my mind, my beautiful sporty friend,” Penelope replied. “I’ve almost got everyone’s, just a minute.”

JJ stood up, walked over to Garcia’s side of the room. Somehow, her side of the room was cleaner than JJ’s, despite the sheer amount of things. Her desk was covered in trinkets, decorations and her wall covered in posters, art prints and photographs. JJ’s, on the other hand, had significantly less stuff, and way more mess. She was a busy girl and her desk was basically useless with all of her books and loose paper and miscellaneous things she needed to deal with ages ago.

“Did you know that Morgan is a gemini?” Penelope asked.

“Figures,” JJ replied, hoping that was the right response.

Garcia had two monitors on her light, wooden desk, and a large desktop computer that she had built herself tucked underneath. On one monitor, was a file that she was slowly adding to, of birthdays written in white text on a grey background. Her own was there, alongside Spencer, Hotch, Derek….

JJ then watched as Garcia typed out Emily’s birthday: October 12. They had missed it too!

“Oh my god,” Penelope said, “why don’t they tell us these things?! How did we befriend such secretive people.”

“Wait, when was that?” JJ murmured, grabbing her wall calendar and flipping through the pages. “Oh my god I saw her that day. She was baking cookies, alone.”

“Alone?” Penelope whimpered.

JJ thought back to that night. She had barged into the kitchen, talked all about her impending break up with Will, and ate Emily’s cookies. She felt awful. Obviously they didn’t know each other as well then, but why was she alone?

“She didn’t even tell Derek,” Penelope said, “oh that sweet summer child. Who hurt her?”

JJ always celebrated her birthday. Be it a family dinner or a full on birthday party when she was a kid, JJ was used to a fuss made about her each year. It was harder after Ros, but her parents refused to let the day pass without at least a cake and a present.

As she befriended Penelope last year, their birthdays were filled with presents and friendship and alcohol, both girls making sure to give the other a thoughtful gift and make a fuss for the day.

Her heart was breaking that three of her new friends were about to let theirs pass without anything to show for it.

“We should have a party,” JJ blurted.

“You read my mind.”

JJ frankly welcomed the distraction from her circular thoughts about her kiss with Emily.

———

JJ left another store empty handed. She had first placed an order at a store downtown for a birthday cake, with three names on it which confused the baker, then began to wander downtown searching for presents.

She had another half hour before she was supposed to meet back up with Derek and Penelope, who were at the dollar store buying decorations, and she had hoped to find something for Emily by then.

The three of them were quite efficient at party planning, and they had to be with such a quick turnaround time. JJ had been tasked with finding a present for Emily.

For Hotch, they wrangled a bottle of the nicer whiskey that he liked, because even at the age of 21, he was somehow already an old man in his tastes. Spencer was also easy, because Penelope was working on knitting him a scarf. Apparently it was from the show Dr. Who, but JJ didn’t really know much about that besides that it was British and both he and Penelope were big fans.

Emily was a lot harder to shop for.

What could JJ get for her with the thirty dollars that they all had pitched in to fund her present? Not much. Especially since JJ knows that Emily comes from money. If she wanted something, she could probably just buy it for herself, right?

It was also difficult because it would be from her. It would be a token of her affections. What were her affections? Did she want to simply sleep with her? Date with her? Be her best friend? JJ’s thoughts were a mess.

JJ had been in just about every store downtown, browsing clothes, gift stores, even a plant store in which she contemplated the meaning of getting Emily a cactus. Nothing was quite right.

She had almost given up when she wandered past a used book store. She had never been in before but always meant to. Out front was a stack of old milk crates filled with books, mostly romance novels and thrillers, and inside the window, beautifully bound antique books were resting in the display.

A bell dinged as she walked in, and an elderly man waved at her from the counter before returning to his own book.

Inside, the smell of old books filled her senses, mixed with the smell of apples and cinnamon and the earthy smell of all the old buildings in her college town.

Stacked floor to ceiling were mountains of books, towering over her head.

There were a few other patrons in the shop, some sitting and reading, others wandering the stacks, pulling out the occasional book.

JJ slowly made her way through the maze. It was larger inside than she expected, with thousands of old books surrounding her, no matter where she looked. At times, she had to step over a pile of books in her path.

The books were organized by topic, but within that, JJ couldn’t discern a clear system.

She climbed the creaky staircase and pondered what kind of book Emily would like. Is buying her a romance novel too forward? JJ wondered. She probably wouldn’t be able to find one with two women anyways.

Did Emily like fantasy? Sci-fi? Non Fiction? Should JJ get her something she’s read? JJ realized that she hadn’t read anything that wasn’t for school in ages.

JJ felt overwhelmed. Was she thinking too hard?

She did a double take at the window sill, realizing that the movement that caught her eye was a black cat basking in the sunlight.

JJ reached out her hand tentatively to pet it. The cat nuzzled her hand, and began to purr. JJ smiled, spending a few minutes giving the cat much needed attention.

The cat then stood, apparently growing bored, and ran off to investigate something or chase a mouse or whatever bookstore cats got up to.

Where it lay was a small book. It was old, but not as old as some of the other leather bound texts in this store. Its white cover had a simple drawing of a boy, and written in a looping script: “Le Petit Prince.”

JJ smiled slightly, picking up the thin book. She leaned against the windowsill and carefully flipped through the pages, admiring the illustrations and trying to decipher the premise with her limited understanding of French.

It seemed like it was for children, with whimsical art of a boy on a small planet, a king, a rose and a fox, among other things. She read the first few pages, about a boy falling in love with a flower, and decided it was perfect.

It was a sign, JJ thought, the cat led her to this book.

The cat—which reminded JJ of Emily with its standoffish exterior but affectionate personality—had clearly shown her that this was the perfect present.

There was no price on it, and JJ worried that it would be out of her budget. Holding it to her chest, she descended the steps and brought the book to the clerk.

“Hello sir,” JJ greated him, setting the book down on the table, “How much is this book? ”

He was seated in a comfortable looking chair behind a counter with an old-fashioned cash register. The sign on it read, ‘cash only’ and there was a tip jar in the form of a cat mug.

“Oh this is an excellent choice!” The man lifted the book up, examining the cover. “On ne voit qu’avec le cœur.”

That was French. JJ didn’t know what it meant, only catching the word “heart” at the end. She nodded nonetheless.

“You speak French?” He asked her.

She shrugged. “I’m learning.”

“This book will teach you more than just French,” the man said. “Trust me.”

JJ didn’t know what he meant, but nodded. He still hadn’t told her how much it was.

“It’s a gift,” JJ explained, “for a friend.”

He handed her back the book, smiling at her. He gave it to her for fifteen dollars, seeming to make up the price on the spot. The black cat waited for her near the door, letting her pet him on the ears before she left.

JJ left the door, hugging the book to her chest.

———

Wrangling three of their friends into attending a surprise party was harder than it looked.

With three student athletes, nights during which none of them had games, or practices were scarce, so it took them until the next Friday before they found a free evening. Then, they had to go through the ordeal of convincing them to show up at Derek’s room at the right time.

JJ felt giddy with the secret, greatly enjoying the party planning and doing something special for her new friends. On her Wednesday afternoon study date with Emily, her excitement for the party almost overpowered her nervousness with the girl due to their recent kiss. JJ caught herself looking more at Emily than her notes, alternating between imagining them kissing and imagining the look on Emily’s face when she received her present.

By seven that Friday night, they had fully decorated Derek’s tiny dorm with streamers, balloons, and just about anything Penelope could find at the dollar store. A happy birthday sign was strung over one of the windows, with the addition of their friends' names written in marker on poster boards taped underneath.

Their presents were wrapped messily, as JJ wasn’t particularly good at using wrapping paper. The cake sat on Derek’s desk reading “Happy (belated) birthday Emily, Hotch and Spencer!” in red icing on white cake.

The three of them were frantically blowing up balloons and checking their phones. JJ felt slightly light headed by the time they were done.

Hotch and Emily were coming for a “study date” with Derek, and Spencer was expecting a Dr. Who marathon with Garcia. All were supposed to be there any minute.

There was a knock on the door.

“Get ready!” Garcia squealed, “someone’s here!”

She opened the door, and instead of the birthday kids, it was David Rossi, who JJ had met for the first time a few weeks prior. He was 22, only a few months older than Hotch, in his first year of his masters. He and Hotch were close, and Emily and Derek knew him well since he TA’d one of their classes.

“Rossi?” Derek said, “you came!”

“I never turn down an invitation to a party,” he said.

“I have to admit,” Derek said, “it’s not that much of a party.“

“It’s more of a magical birthday get together,” Penelope said as she ushered him in.

“Good thing I brought enough alcohol to make it a party,” he said.

He pulled a very expensive looking bottle of vodka out of his backpack, and more beers than should fit in a normal sized bag.

“I take it back,” Derek said, “this is definitely a party.”

There was another knock on the door.

“Come in!” Garcia said, picking up a balloon to throw.

Spencer opened the door trailed by Hotch and Emily, all looking confused as they were bombarded by a dozen balloons cascading down from above and a series of hugs from the group. All were looking around with a mix of shock and happiness on their faces.

“It’s technically none of your birthdays today,” Penelope said, “Because you are all such awful private people, BUT I got the goods and figured it out. We thought we would celebrate all of you guys, and our amazing friend group, with this little shindig.”

“It’s wonderful Garcia,” Hotch said, almost smiling, “Thank you.”

“Don’t just thank me!” she said, “It was Miss Jennifer’s idea, and she got the cake. And my beautiful Derek helped me with the decorations and loaned his room, which might I say, is strangely large for a single room.”

Derek chucked, “It was my pleasure, happy birthday you three.”

He pulled Spencer in and ruffled his hair.

“We’ve ordered pizza too!” JJ announced, “It should be here any minute now.”

“You’re too good to us,” Emily finally spoke up, after standing in the doorway with a dazed expression on her face.

Penelope guided them in, and the group exchanged hugs and laughter, and Hotch got a very Italian kiss on the cheek from Rossi. Penelope put silly birthday hats on their heads, and took photos like a proud mother.

After a few minutes of chatter—about the decorations, how they managed to keep it a secret, and most importantly, the illegality of Penelope hacking into their personal data on the university server— JJ’s phone pinged and she ran to the foyer to get the pizzas.

Munching on greasy food, there was a companionable silence with the cheery sounds of the music in the background.

As pizza wrapped up, their chatter resumed and the room filled with overlapping conversations. JJ noticed Rossi had snuck off to fish something out of Derek’s mini fridge, pouring something out into shot glasses. Then she heard the sound of whipped cream.

At that sound, all heads turned towards him. He had three cups filled to the brim with whipped cream and he looked like he was about to burst into laughter at any point.

“BIRTHDAY SHOTS!” Penelope squealed.

“No way,” Hotch said, “I’m not doing one of those.”

“One of what?” Spencer asked nervously.

“It’s not a blowjob is it?” Emily asked with a laugh.

“A blowjob?” Spencer asked even more nervously.

“It’s a shot, kid,” Derek assured him, “you just can’t use your hands and there’s the-“

He gestured at the whipped cream with a laugh.

“White stuff!” Emily said, tying up her hair into a ponytail in preparation.

Rossi had to explain the premise several times, before it sunk in that they had to fish out the small shot and drink it all without using their hands. Reid looked at them suspiciously but he warmed up to the idea after Hotch offered to go first so he could see how it’s done.

The older boy had definitely done a blowjob shot before, efficiently grabbing the plastic shot cup and downing it, his cheeks covered with whipped cream.

Emily was enthusiastically buried in the whipped cream but struggled on the follow through, spilling most of the vodka into the larger cup before she drank it.

Reid seemed nervous to get the whipped cream on his face, reeling back and wiping his cheeks then trying again.

Eventually, Derek reached his hand into the cup, retrieved the shot and held it up to Spencer’s mouth.

“Look ma, no hands!” Morgan quipped before rubbing some leftover whipped cream on the younger boy’s face as the group laughed. Reid was laughing happily, beaming as he wiped his face.

With the celebratory shot in their system, it was time for cake. JJ carefully used Penelope’s bright pink lighter to ignite candles on each piece for her three friends as they sang Happy Birthday to them.

“Happy birthday to you!” They sang, “happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Hotch, Spence and Emily! Happy birthday to you!”

They blew out their candles. All were instructed to make wishes.

As the night progressed, JJ got more and more nervous about the present. What if Emily hated it? Would she ruin the whole night? Penelope and Derek had assured her that it was a good present but what if they were wrong too?

JJ busied herself with cutting the cake, distributing pieces and making sure everyone had forks and napkins.

Rossi, who was their unofficial bartender, was stationed near the mini fridge and passed out fresh beers when called upon.

“Gifts!” Penelope exclaimed once they had made good work of the cake, dragging the presents out from their hiding space under Derek’s desk.

She handed them over to Emily, Hotch and Reid.

“We all pitched in,” Derek said.

All three looked perturbed at the fuss, murmuring “you shouldn’t have” as they looked at the gift. Spencer opened his and laughed, wrapping the incredibly long striped scarf around his neck and thanking Penelope. Aaron actually did smile at his present and expressed his gratitude by pouring them all shots.

Emily held hers for a moment, staring at the wrapped book with an unreadable expression on her face. JJ watched, holding her breath as she turned it over, then placed it back down.

“Will you excuse me for a second?” Emily said, her voice tight and sounding very… formal.

JJ gulped as Emily stood, and exited the dorm, shutting the door behind her. She immediately thought that she had done something wrong.

The group looked back and forth, not quite sure what to do, as the commotion happened mid way through Hotch doling out shots of whiskey and some were already half raised.

A moment passed as JJ thought about whether it would be worse for her to follow or leave her be. Maybe she wanted to be left alone? Maybe JJ was the last person Emily wanted to see?

She knew there was a lot about Emily that she didn’t know. Like JJ, the other girl kept a lot close to her chest. Over time, JJ had learned some details of her childhood, but not all, and what she knew didn’t look good. Maybe all of this was a bad idea? Emily might have had a reason that she didn’t celebrate her birthday. This could have been an awful plan and it would have been all JJ’s fault.

She stood and grabbed the book, deciding to follow Emily. She slipped out the door and walked slowly down the hall, unsure of what she would even say to Emily once she faced her. Hey I just gave you a gift and you all but ran out of the room before you opened it, did I offend you somehow? Or I’m sorry?

JJ wasn’t sure what she was sorry for. She just knew something was upsetting Emily and the last thing JJ wanted to be was the cause of that. In fact, she wanted to make Emily happy and make sure nothing ever bothered her ever again. It would probably be weird for her to say that, right?

She assumed that Emily had gone to the communal bathroom, as she left her lanyard with her room keys behind her in Derek’s room. If she had left the floor she would have been locked out.

JJ took a breath outside the door, then pushed it open.

Emily was standing in the bathroom that all of the girls floor shared, with its small row of stalls, old fashioned sinks and blue tiled floor. A frosted window that looked out into the courtyard. Many mornings JJ found herself brushing her teeth next to the other girl.

Emily had her arms braced on the sides of the sink, leaning forward and looking at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing was coming in quick breaths.

“Em?” JJ said softly.

Startled by the noise, Emily looked away from her, quickly pulling up a corner of her shirt to wipe her eyes.

“You ok?” JJ asked, tucking the present behind her back.

“I’m fine,” Emily said, standing up straight and giving her a half smile. Her posture was stiff, her smile forced.

“You don’t look fine.”

Emily stepped back, leaning against the window sill. She crossed her arms, still avoiding any eye contact.

JJ walked forward, slowly closing the distance.

She leaned on the wall beside Emily, trying not to stare at her and make her feel uncomfortable.

“Did I do something wrong?” JJ asked. Her voice sounded small in her ears. She immediately kicked herself, upset at how this might sound like she was making it all about herself.

“No!” Emily exclaimed, shaking her head. “No. It wasn’t you it’s…”

She trailed off.

“I’ve never had all this before. The friends and the party and the gifts. All this attention… it’s a lot.”

She slid to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. JJ did the same, turning to face the other girl. She didn’t want to push too hard lest Emily flee from her again.

“It’s all so nice,” Emily whispered.

“Then what’s wrong?” JJ asked softly.

Emily sighed and began to bite her nails. Her posture was hunched over, curled up on the cold tile floor.

She began to speak, then stopped herself, gritting her teeth and blinking hard. She looked over at JJ reluctantly, seeming to think hard about how to answer that question.

“I was always the new girl wherever I was,” she said. “I was never anywhere enough to make friends, real friends that is. Or have anything like all this. I would do anything to fit in and it never seemed to work.”

JJ’s heart felt like it was breaking for her friend. She tried to imagine Emily trying to be anyone else other than the Emily she knew and couldn’t. Fitting in is hard, let alone fitting into new countries and learning new languages. JJ knew she wouldn’t have been able to keep it together.

Emily shook her head, picking at the skin around her nails anxiously, JJ could tell that sharing all of this was incredibly difficult.

“I lived in a dozen different countries and was barely there long enough to make friends and when I did…” Emily sighed. “I fucked it up. I make things worse for people.”

Emily buried her face in her hands, her breaths coming harder now. Her voice was shaky and quiet, almost whispering to JJ.

“My mom was never around on my birthdays. She would leave me a present. Maybe. This year she didn’t even call.”

Emily paused.

“And then you guys do all this.”

Emily looked up, staring with unfocused eyes into the bathroom, JJ could tell she was thinking of someone else, some other day. She looked lost.

JJ wanted to hold her hand, wanted to comfort her, keep her close. She was always called the mom friend, it was in her nature to try and make sure her friends were taken care of. Her feelings for Emily complicated things. If she was anyone else, she would grab her hand, no questions asked, but she felt herself second-guessing each move.

Her actions suddenly felt like they had more weight to them. Knowing that she liked Emily made everything strange. If she held her hand, would it be weird? She didn’t know. Normally, she wouldn’t question holding a friend’s hand, hell, she’d already held Emily’s hand.

But that was before she was gay, or bi, or whatever. Before she knew she liked girls. Liked Emily. Now, touching her felt scary, like she was doing something wrong, even if she was simply trying to be nice.

Fighting against her anxious thoughts, JJ reached out, tugging at Emily’s wrist until her hand clasped onto hers. JJ ran a reassuring thumb over her hand. She sighed a breath of relief when Emily leaned into the touch.

“You’re our friend,” JJ said, simply. “And we care about you.”

Emily nodded, still not looking at her.

“When I held your present in my hands,” Emily said, “I just couldn't stop thinking of my friend Matthew. He surprised me on my sixteenth birthday, pulling me out of some stupid event my mother had dragged me to. That was the only time I got a real birthday present before now.”

JJ hadn’t heard about this friend. Emily didn’t really talk about her past, beyond the general facts. JJ had to stop herself from prying, fighting back her curiosity in favour of letting Emily talk.

She squeezed Emily’s hand in a gesture she hoped would be encouraging.

“Your gift just brought back a lot of memories,” Emily said with a whisper. “Matthew basically saved my life. He was the only friend I had before now I guess.”

She looked over at JJ.

“I’m sorry,” Emily said, wiping at her eyes.

“Don’t be.”

JJ pulled Emily into her, wrapping her arms around her and holding her tight. Emily let out a muffled sob and fell into her, with her head tucked under JJ’s chin. They sat like that for a while, JJ listening to Emily’s ragged breathing and JJ running a calming hand over her back. Emily’s face was buried in her shoulder, her soft hair tickled JJ’s face as she held her tight.

She focused on rubbing Emily’s back, making patterns with her hand on top of her soft sweater. Emily’s arms were wrapped around her waist.

For a moment, tears pricked at JJ’s eyes. Watching Emily finally be vulnerable to her, for her to share something, even if she left out details, was a lot. She blinked them back and focused on steadying her breathing, being a calm presence for Emily.

After a moment Emily pulled away, creating some distance between them, wiping her face with her sleeve and sniffling.

“JJ I don’t want you to get hurt,” Emily said, her voice cracking, “I just bring people pain.”

“What happened, Em?” JJ asked.

Emily looked at her with teary eyes and shook her head.

“You don’t have to tell me, Emily. But I need you to know that whatever it is, I’ll still be here. I care so much about you and just… like being your friend. I don’t care what happened in your past or if you think you’re going to hurt me. All I care about is us.”

“I like being your friend,” Emily said with a teary laugh.

JJ smiled at her, pulling her into another hug. Holding her tight feeling like the girl would break into pieces in front of her if she let go.

“Do you want your present?” JJ asked carefully, still hugging Emily. She could feel the other girl nod.

JJ pulled back, taking the wrapped book from the tile floor and placing it in Emily’s lap. Emily carefully began to unwrap it, as if she wasn’t allowed to rip the brightly patterned paper.

“You know you can rip it, right?” JJ said with a kind laugh. “Just tear it open, it’s part of the fun!”

Emily looked at her nervously, and half heartedly tugged at the wrapping paper.

“Harder!” JJ said, demonstrating by pulling on it and making a satisfying tearing noise. JJ assumed that the girl didn’t have the opportunity to tear open presents as a kid, and JJ wanted to make sure she didn’t miss out on that joy anymore.

Emily laughed and tore at it, ripping the paper off and revealing the small book underneath. Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

“I read this as a kid,” Emily breathed, staring at the cover reverently.

She opened the cover and looked through the first few pages.

“L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux,” Emily quoted the novel just as the book shop clerk had done.

“What is essential is invisible to the eyes,” JJ translated. “I don’t really get it. I tried to read it before I gave it to you, but didn’t make much headway.”

“It’s about love,” Emily said as she flipped through the pages.

Emily slowly turned the pages, smiling down at the whimsical illustrations and murmured about it in French that JJ couldn’t quite make out.

“I could translate it for you if you want?” Emily offered.

“Is it as good in English?”

“No,” Emily said with a laugh.

JJ beamed, happy that her gift was no longer making Emily upset. She hoped that whatever bad memories she had about birthdays were being amended with some joy from today.

“Well then I just have to get better at French so that I can understand it,” JJ said. “I’ll need a good tutor.”

“This is an amazing present. Thank you JJ.”

They smiled at each other.

“I’ll read it to you,” Emily said, “And you can stop me and I can explain anything you don’t understand.”

JJ’s heart fluttered at the thought of Emily reading a love story out loud. Though, from what she saw it was about a boy being in love with a flower so it couldn’t be that romantic, could it?

“Sounds like a plan,” JJ said. “Should we get back? I wouldn’t want to worry the others.”

Emily nodded, then the two of them stood up together. JJ’s legs had fallen asleep while sitting on the cold, tiled floor so she dramatically shook them out, making Emily laugh.

God her laugh, she wanted to hear that forever. She’d do anything to keep Emily smiling and happy.

As they walked back to the party, it was Emily who took JJ’s hand.

Maybe they could be friends. Maybe that would be enough.

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #prentiss x jj #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #gravelyhumerus cm college au #my post #my writing #after all that i almost forgot to actually post it #hope u all enjoy xoxoox #kennedy is not in this chapter i am sorry to her fans

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burningupp-replies · 3 years

Text

Sleepless | Zuko x reader

A/N: this was requested like a week ago, i know :( school is kicking my proverbial butt at the moment, but i promise im working whenever i can to get new content for you all! i hope you will forgive me :( (also yes, i am working on another part for Teamwork, no need to worry)

Prompts:

13: I always sleep best when you’re next to me.

44: Why are you still awake?

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: there is a pretty steamy kiss at the end, but other than that, just tooth-rotting fluff :)

The fire nation palace felt so… big and cold, especially at night. It made you feel small and alone, and you usually found yourself clutching your pillow to your chest for dear life. You had been with the others during the war, helping the cause in any way you could, and even six months later, you couldn’t shake the feeling of general uneasiness you got when seeing anything related to the fire nation – especially when you were trying to sleep.

When the war ended, Zuko had asked you to remain behind in the fire nation with him. He needed help understanding cultures other than his own, since his nation and culture had been romanticized for him his entire upbringing. He knew very little of rituals, rites of passage, linguistic differences, and so on. Even the question of climate could be difficult for him to grasp at times, which made you laugh.

When the fire prince first suggested for you to stay, you were hesitant at first; leave your family behind, get used to this new idea of the nation which had haunted your nightmares for so long, and being mostly alone in your situation hadn’t sounded appealing at all. However, once Aang agreed that you really could do some good by staying, you begrudgingly agreed – you hadn’t spent all that time trying to help the world just to back out now.

So now, two months since your move to the fire nation and since taking up your new position at the fire lord’s side, you were staying in a palace which gave you nightmares. Zuko had been very kind to you, doing his best to accommodate you in a way which made you comfortable and happy, but the general unease you felt was far from his fault – he was more or less the reason you were there to begin with.

Of course, the crush you had been harboring on the boy since he first joined you in the western airtemple had aided in your decision to stay; not that anyone other than Katara knew the truth. He was just so… cute. Spirits, he would kill you for even thinking that about him, but you honestly couldn’t help it. He was awkward, but not in a creepy kind of way. He was really sweet and caring, and extremely understanding. He did his best to keep the mood light, without going overboard (cough Sokka cough). He had taught you so many things, seen so many things with you and you could just feel your heart yearning for his whenever he crossed your mind.

So, staring up at the ceiling – completely sleepless – you huffed out a sigh and a groan. You tossed your pillow aside and sat up in bed, putting your head in your hands. If you didn’t start catching up on your sleep soon, you were going to lose your mind. You groaned out loud, sighing again, and staring at the ceiling again.

“Damn it, I need to do something,” you muttered to yourself, getting out of bed. You slipped into a red silk robe and a pair of red slippers to aid your feet in not falling off, and started tip-toeing out of your room towards the kitchens.

Since you couldn’t sleep while you were here, you had made a habit for yourself to go to the kitchens and make a cup of tea during the night. You usually then brought your cup with you into the library, where you could read up more on fire nation culture, so as to aid the fire lord better in his quest to make peace.

You were so used to your routine at that point, you didn’t even need to look for anything; it all just flowed smoothly, and you didn’t even make a sound throughout the entire process. Heating up the tea would have been difficult if some of the servants hadn’t been non-benders who needed some assistance to heat the tea up without bending, but you were in luck. Grabbing the jar with the jasmine tea, you prepared a pot and grabbed a mug, placing everything on a tray before sneaking the rest of the way to the library.

The doors were big and heavy, so you had to turn around to push with your back, since your hands were occupied. Once the door had slid open, you turned around to walk in, only to find Zuko already in there, pouring over a book on the sofa. You stilled, not really knowing what to do. Had he heard you enter? You had become quite proficient at sneaking the past few weeks, but you knew the man had excellent hearing, so him not noticing your entrance seemed unlikely.

Just as you were going to turn around and leave, Zuko’s head snapped up and his gaze met yours. Your body immediately came alive, blood rushing to your face and ears, and your stomach erupting with butterflies. You smiled bashfully at him, and opened your mouth to speak.

“I-I’m sorry, Lord Zuko. I did not know you would be in here at so late an hour,” you stuttered. You wanted to facepalm, but both your hands were occupied, so you just stood there awkwardly. “Uhm, I can leave.”

“N-no! I…” he started, sucking in a deep breath before smiling and continuing. “I really don’t mind your company. And please, just call me Zuko.”

You grinned at him, and he grinned back. “Sorry I went all formal and weird, I know we know each other, I just… haven’t seen you since you became fire lord, I guess.”

There hadn’t been any meetings regarding other nations’ cultures yet, and so you hadn’t seen Zuko since moving in; he had sent you a few notes, just telling you that you could come to him if you had any issues. It had been very sweet, and you had always sent a ‘thank you’ right back. Still, you had been a bit unsure of how to act in front of him.

“Oh, yeah,” he laughed a little as you set your tray down on a table and went to shut the door. “I guess you haven’t, huh? I’m still not used to it, if I’m honest,” he grimaced, and you smiled.

“I hope it’s okay that I raided the kitchen for jasmine tea?” you inquired, and the boy smiled at you fondly.

“No problems at all, Y/N. I remember you used to drink a lot of tea, you said it was ‘good for your nerves’,” he teased, and you blushed again. “The staff informed me that a lot of tea seemed to be missing, I was suspecting uncle.”

You started apologizing again, but he just laughed and waved you off. After that, you both fell silent, and you decided to get up and find the book you had started reading earlier that week, but had never gotten to finish. You opened the pages delicately, searching for your place before finding it and settling into your usual armchair by the fireplace, which was lit for once. The entire time, you could feel Zuko’s gaze on you, studying your every move.

When you paused to pour some tea into your mug, you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

The boy blinked at you a few times, before shaking his head. “Oh, uh, nothing,” he mumbled, and you smiled back at him. “I was just wondering… why are you still awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged. For a moment he looked as though he was going to inquire further, but then he seemed to let it go, and no more words were spoken until he had to leave so he could get some sleep.

The whole interaction had been weird at first, but incredibly soothing once all the awkwardness had dissipated. His presence reminded you of… not simpler times, per se, but happier ones. Ones spent laughing with the first friends you had ever really had, friends who you were now missing so dearly. But having the comfort of one of them calmed you down enough that once you finally went back to your own room, you slept more peacefully than you had in a long time.

After that night, the two of you met up in the library at night at least three times a week. He was a busy man, but he wanted to make time for one of his dearest friends – and long-time crush, but he still maintained that part was irrelevant. He never thought you would like him back, like ever. It was a concept he didn’t even dare think about, for fear of getting his hopes up only to get them crushed later.

Three more months later, you had met up in the library during sleepless nights countless times. It had become a routine of sorts; he was usually there before you, since you were busy making a pot of tea to bring (now with two mugs, of course), and once you arrived, you would exchange a few words before settling down with a book each in comfortable silence.

The more times you met up, the more comfortable you became with each other. The first night had been spent with him on the couch, and you in an armchair – two weeks later and you were both on the couch. At this point, you tended to lean back against him on the couch as he played with your hair, still silently reading your own books. It was the highlight of your time in the palace, for sure.

This particular night, you were very tired. You even contemplated skipping the library, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, no matter how much your mind screamed at you for some rest. So as you sank down against Zuko’s form, his fingers running through your hair, your eyelids started drooping. You tried to fight against it, you really did, but it was no use; five minutes later, and you were out like a light.

It took a while for the fire lord to recognize that you were asleep – you were a very peaceful sleeper, no snoring or movement, and he was so content with you against his chest as he turned the pages of his book. Still, once he realized, he kind of panicked.

You were sleeping against his chest. He wanted to move you, carry you to your room or something, but he was scared to wake you. So for a while, he just stayed there, frozen. He didn’t even dare turn the page of his book for fear of stirring you from your – much needed – sleep.

After around 30 minutes, though, he realized staying like that wasn’t doing anyone any good. Your neck was at an awkward angle, his back was getting stiff, and honestly? The sound of your breathing was lulling him to sleep as well. He sighed, but carefully extracted himself from you before picking you up in his arms as though you weighed nothing. He decided to leave the tray with the mugs and kettle; you were more important. You slept soundly the entire way to your room, and only woke when Zuko carefully placed you on top of your soft bed. You didn’t open your eyes though, just stretched a hand out to get him to join you.

The gesture made Zuko freeze where he stood – were you really insinuating what he thought you were, or was it a dream? A hallucination born from the desire to be near you, perhaps? But when you sleepily whimpered his name, it was confirmed for him; you wanted him to stay and sleep in your bed with you.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he asked carefully, and at your huff combined with an intense nod of your head, he smiled.

Had he been less tired, he might have been able to resist. However, he was tired, and longed for your warm, soft curves to be pressed up against him. Maybe in your embrace, he could escape the nightmares that plagued him so. As soon as he was next to you and you both were under the covers, your tiny frame wrapped around his tall, muscular one, and you found sleep with a sigh.

He managed to kiss your forehead and wrap his arms around you before the darkness overtook him, his mind more at peace than it had been since early childhood.

In the early hours of the morning, the sky just burgeoning on a light pink, you suddenly woke. You were unbelievably warm, and even more comfortable. You were surrounded by the smell of firewood and pure manliness, which comforted you greatly. A few moments later, however, you found yourself nearly panicked; you were sleeping in the same bed as Zuko. How in the entire world had that happened?!

Of course you weren’t upset that he was there – if anything, it was like all your dreams coming true – but you had no idea if anyone had noticed his absence, if there was widespread panic, or, worst of all, what if he didn’t want to be there with you? What if he was annoyed with you for falling asleep in the library?

You were broken out of your panic when the man in question groaned and stretched, automatically grabbing you and pulling him into you. You stiffened even further, not knowing how to react to the sudden affection he was showing towards you.

Once he realized he wasn’t dreaming, Zuko stiffened too. In his defense, this exact situation was very often part of his dreams; dreams where you were his wife, you had children together, and everything was more than perfect. It still felt that way when he had woken up, just as perfect as a dream, if not better.

“G-good morning,” you stuttered, deciding to break the silence.

“Morning,” he answered hesitantly, and the sound of his gravelly voice first in the morning damn near made you swoon.

After that, neither one of you really knew what to say. The sky was slowly brightening to include red, then orange, before yellow and white tones joined in, creating a beautiful gradient that signaled the start of yet another day. He didn’t want to break the silence, and neither did you. It was a thick kind of silence, and he was scared that breaking it would break the spell of just being together. Alone.

You both realized that you couldn’t stay like that forever, though, and after a while, you decided to bite the bullet.

“I’m so sorry I fell asleep yesterday.” Your voice was hardly above a whisper, but he heard you loud and clear nonetheless.

“It was really not a problem, Y/N. I’m just glad you finally got some rest, is all.”

His voice was still gravelly, but somehow felt smooth at the same time. He didn’t seem annoyed or angry, in fact he seemed perfectly content to remain exactly where he was. And he was.

“Well, I’m sorry you slept here. I didn’t mean to intrude on your resting time…” you mumbled, and he exhaled a breath.

“Y/N…”

You interrupted him immediately. “I mean I had no intention of falling asleep like that, especially on top of you! I just kind of, I don’t know, felt comfortable, and I’d had a really tiring day, and-“

“Y/N, I sleep better with you next to me,” he decided to inform you, interrupting your ramblings. When you gave him an incredulous stare, he laughed a little. “We used to sleep next to each other all the time. Granted, those were stressful times, but I think I got used to it. Even when the others weren’t exactly accepting of my presence, you always treated me with kindness. I guess I’m… comfortable around you. And I think… It may be because I like you. A lot.”

His words stunned you into silence. How could this perfect man, with more power than anyone would ever need, like you? He had always treated you kindly, and that was part of his appeal. Even when he was supposedly trying to capture the avatar, he had seemed a bit on edge, almost like he wanted to hold back. A few times he had held back, even though you could see how much it hurt him to do so. When he joined you, he’d had no issues carrying his own weight, even helping relieve some of the others’ burden. He had been so patient with Aang while teaching him firebending, and with all of you when it came to your slightly odd humor and hijinks.

In short, you loved this man, and in an effort to show him, you decided to kiss him.

Your lips seemed to meld with his perfectly. He took it slow and steady, caressing your cheek as he kissed you. Your arms seemed to have a mind of their own as they curled around the back of his neck, playing with the locks of hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him a little bit closer.

The kiss was everything you had ever wanted and dreamt of; he was everything you had ever wanted and dreamt of, and he was more. His lips were soft and pillowy, he responded so beautifully to your kisses and caresses, tugging you closer and grunting with pleasure.

Zuko himself felt like he was dying. Spirits how he loved to kiss you, touch you, make you feel good. The way you played with his hair drove him absolutely crazy, and the feel of your lips was the most exquisite thing he had ever felt in his entire life. You were everything to him, and now that he knew what you tasted like, he could never go back.

Unfortunately, you had to pull apart eventually. You were both gasping for breath, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, but you were both smiling like idiots. Everything was about to change, but neither one of you minded in the slightest.

Being sleepless had never resulted in anything better.

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 3 years

Text

20.12, knee socks & stolen shirts, kyle o’reilly.

Title: knee socks & stolen shirts

Theme: fireplace/ stockings... again, trust me. it’s theme adjacent-ish.. sorta...

Fandom / Character(s): Kyle O’Reilly and a reader that’s partially inspired by myself tbh. No sense in lying. I did /try/ to keep all physical appearance details out of this aside from roommate/reader being female. Try is the operative here.

Warnings: uhh.. dry humping / making out. roommates to lovers? is that a trope/thing? i feel like it is... Uhh.. a few swear words... Not much else...

Word Count: my guesstimate is roughly around 2.8k. Maybe sliiightly over.

This is my entry for the day for @champbucks 12 Days of Christmas challenge on @12daysofchristmas. It was written in a fit of thirsting over Kyle, as one does... And my mighty need to take the suggested theme and of course, put my own twist to it.. because stockings doesn’t just have to imply those that are hung over the fireplace.... I made the banner thing used here, so no stealing or reposting it, please and thanks?

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee

@rampagewriting

@writertoo18

@thatnerdwriter

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@waywardwrestlewritingwaif

@sassymox

@champbucks

@hungmanhorsecarriage

@wardl0w

@ryantaylorgirl

@dilfmoxley

@hotyeehawman

@gabbynorth98

@bec0m

@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

@daddyslittlevillain

[ about page | masterlist | tag list ]

The comforting glow and warmth of the fireplace and soft white Christmas lights strung on a tree over by the floor to ceiling window greeted Kyle as he stepped into the apartment, shutting the door behind him and locking all 3 locks. One glance around the dimly lit living room revealed that apparently, his roommate had decorated for Christmas and that had him giving a goofy grin as he chuckled to himself and peeled off the jacket that he wore over his hoodie and then bent to take down his sneakers off.

A sock clad leg settled over the back of their couch and out from beneath the red and black plaid throw that barely covered her, a second away from slipping off and settling on the floor. He could hear her light snores. The television set was on the channel that NXT normally aired on, but It’s A Wonderful Life was just starting.

Everything just felt so cozy. All the tension and craziness of the past few weeks plus the tiredness from traveling seemed to melt away from Kyle, leaving only comfort.

The overpowering feeling that this was home and damn, was it good to be back.

His eyes settled on her sleeping form just as she rolled over, face partially buried beneath the pillow she’d apparently bought out from her own room. He chuckled softly at the sight of her, rubbing his chin a moment in quiet thought as it hit him..

Somewhere in between her answering his ad for a roommate and now, he’d fallen for her. And as he thought back on the whole realization, he figured out that yes, he could pinpoint the exact moment. And now that he was sitting there in the dimly lit living room and actually thinking about it, Kyle saw no reason to keep it to himself.

But the question remained.. Exactly how did he proceed from where he was right now?

It was what he was trying to figure out when he heard her soft whimpers across the room and had to shift around on the stool in which he sat because just the sound… The sight of her legs. The way the fireplace’s soft glow lit her sleeping form and made long hair seem to shine as she lie there. The little soft sighs and other sounds she made as she continued to sleep on blissfully on the couch were doing all sorts of things to him.

The blanket she’d had barely covering her gave up it’s fight to stay and slid down the side of the oversized suede sectional and settled to the floor in a pile. Kyle stood and made his way over, mostly on autopilot for the time being and he bent, retrieving the fallen blanket. Bending at the waist to put it over her. And just as he was about to, she rolled onto her back, long locks fanned out on a pale winter white silk pillow cushion, her arms stretched out lazily.

His eyes settled on the familiar long sleeve shirt she happened to be wearing and it clicked as to why exactly the shirt was so familiar.

It belonged to him.

His hand raised, catching in close cropped hair as he continued to stare down at her. He wondered how long she’d had it. He tried to convince himself that she’d just grabbed a shirt to throw on earlier and hadn’t realized. Or maybe his shirt got mixed in with her laundry, it’d happened to him a time or two. One memorable instance was the time a pair of her panties got stuck inside the leg of his jeans, only to fall out in the aisle as he boarded the plane.

,, your first clue you felt something for her should’ve been just how jealous you got every single time Roderick attempted to flirt with her, or the way he teased you about her underwear the whole flight and you got downright protective. As if she were yours and yours alone. Not to mention all the endless fantasizing you’ve been doing about her lately...” the realization crept in as he replayed it over in his head.

Now it was all starting to make so much sense.

He took a few shaky breaths and worked on pulling himself together. He’d just turned to walk away, intending on going straight to his room because he needed to think. He needed to ground himself and get some focus to figure out what he was going to do with everything that was occurring to him currently and he just… Couldn’t like he needed to with the distracting temptation of her sprawled out sleeping on the couch.

Another quiet whimper shattered the silence from behind him. But it wasn’t the sound itself that had Kyle turning back to stare down at her as he strained to hear and his breath caught in his throat all over again, no… It was what she whimpered as the sound was made.

His name. Softly. And not just the one time either, at least two or three times. Followed by a contented little sigh and more words muttered in a lower tone so that he couldn’t exactly be sure of what she’d said.

He eyed her, briefly convincing himself that she was awake and teasing or something.. but then one good look at her revealed that no, she was still asleep. With no actual clue what she was saying or doing, apparently.

If he thought he was hard enough to crack concrete before, it was… So much worse now. And still getting harder with each second and every single little sigh or purr or other quiet noise she managed to make. His fists clenched at his sides and he took a few deep breaths.

It did nothing to help him or calm him down.

She tossed a little in her sleep, the little movements sending the bottom of the shirt up over a pair of red and white striped panties that matched the over the knee socks she was currently wearing and Kyle let out a quiet groan of frustration.

He needed to go think. Figure things out.

Bearing the thought in mind, he turned, intending to walk out of the living room and down the hall to his own room, but in his haste to get out of there, his shin banged right against the metal leg of the low to the ground coffee table.

The sound was loud.

Kyle tensed a little, not even daring to look back and see if it might have woken her up….

XXX

The sound of something hitting the coffee table had me opening one eye slowly and immediately sent me into a bit of an internal panic when the dim glow of the fireplace across the room revealed that Kyle was home.

A whole day early.

I watched him clutching at his shin and hopping around a little, soft little grin on my face while his back was turned to me and then, it hit me…. I was wearing one of the shirts I stole out of his closet right after he left to go back on the road.

And I had no way to get past him, because he was standing right in front of me.

,, Okay.. best way to play this is totally oblivious. Pretend you’re just now waking up. Don’t mention the fact that why yes, you’re wearing one of his shirts… Act normal.” my mind coaxed, prompting me to sit up and stretch, make a big show of yawning out loud to get his attention. Kyle turned around and I rose from the couch, coming to a stop in front of him.

“I hope you didn’t mind that I decorated…” I nodded to the room we stood in, giving a sheepish little smile as I tilted my head and met his gaze. ,, please don’t notice your shirt on me… please don’t notice your shirt on me…”

Kyle gave a quiet chuckle and yawned a little himself, “See what you started?” with a teasing grin. He nodded to the fireplace, lined with two red and black plaid stockings and gave another quiet chuckle. “Stockings, though?”

I gave his chest a light swat. “I’ll have you know, sir.. It’s tradition.You always hang stockings over the mantle before Christmas. Besides, damn it, they were cute and on sale.” I gave a soft laugh and shook my head, staring up at him a little, still sort of waking up if I were to be totally honest about it.

He pretended to think it over, stepping just a little closer. His eyes settled on my lips and when he swallowed hard, my eyes caught on the subtle movement of his throat as he did so. I did the same, especially when I realized that we now had almost zero space between our bodies.

So far, so good. He hadn’t noticed the shirt I was wearing happened to be one of his.

I crossed my fingers below the extra inches of fabric on the sleeves that caused them to cover my hands almost entirely.

His gaze fixed just over our heads and I remembered that earlier, when my friend had been over helping me decorate, she’d jokingly hung up mistletoe somewhere in the apartment, but refused to tell me where.

His throat cleared after his eyes settled back on mine and we spent a few seconds that seemed to linger longer than usual, passed. He nodded upward and my eyes followed his, settling on the sprig. I swore under my breath, gave him a sheepish and apologetic shrug. “Sorry, my friend helped me do all this earlier and she probably did that…”

One of his hands squeezed my hips, guiding me so that I pressed against him, just when I thought that we were standing close enough already that there wasn’t any space left between us. Now there really wasn’t. And I could feel my heart fluttering lazily. I melted against him a little and busied myself toying with the strings of his black hoodie, staring at the lettering on the front.

Because if I looked up at him right now, I was half afraid I’d go for it and pull his mouth down against mine. Lately it’s been so much harder to keep my feelings and my desires where my roommate Kyle is concerned, to myself.

His hand left my side and raised, thick and calloused fingers tucking beneath my chin. Pulling my gaze up to meet his so that I had no choice in the matter. When his tongue slowly trailed over his mouth, I fidgeted ever so slightly, melting against him just a little more before I could stop myself or censor the action.

The other hand squeezed my hip and he took a few shaky breaths. His eyes lowered, roaming over me nice and slow. I knew I was caught when he chuckled to himself quietly and met my gaze. “So that’s where my shirt went…”

My face has never gone as red as it did then, as fast as it did. Ever.

“I…” but my brain was in overload at the moment, so coming up with a suitable excuse as to how I’d gotten his shirt in the first place wasn’t happening. It would’ve been easy to just say that I’d done a load of laundry and somehow, the shirt I wore must have gotten mixed in with my own clothing, but apparently… My brain wasn’t dealing with logic right now.

I was so caught up in the fact that I’d been caught sleeping in his shirt that I actually missed everything else that was going on. I was dazed, my mind going a million different directions all at once.

Kyle was leaning down just a little, his face close to mine. His lips brushed mine clumsily as he spoke, the soft husk of his voice making me clench my thighs because it… definitely did things to me.

“We’re standing under mistletoe right now, sweetheart.” Kyle mused, giving a sort of smirk as his eyes met mine after another slow travel over my entire body.

“That we are, Kyle.” I muttered, mostly still in a daze. Maybe a little bit still half asleep too. I leaned my face in a little closer, mirroring the way he’d done it so subtly before, without me even realizing it. His fingertips dug into my side a little bit deeper. He held me tighter against him too, a quiet growl shattering the silence and limited space between our mouths when his mouth managed to catch against mine directly. Something in him snapped. He pulled me up his body and I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck. My fingers toyed with his neck, making him laugh quietly and shiver as he sank down onto the couch.

“You know what playing with my neck does to me. We talked about all this before, remember?”

“Mhm.” I muttered, locking eyes with him. His hands moved up and down my sides, one stopping on my bare thigh, squeezing. He shifted the way he sat and when he rubbed against me and I felt the way he strained at his jeans, I shivered again, a quiet whimper falling from my lips as I gripped his bearded jaw and pulled his mouth closer to mine all over again. “Are you gonna do anything about it, Kyle?”

“Oh, I have a few ideas in mind, babe.” his mouth met mine and our noses bumped, sending us springing apart and laughing about it. “You shocked the tip of my nose too, ouch!” I whined, giving him a bit of a playful pout as I rubbed the tip of my nose.

“Me? You’re the one with the hard head, sweetheart.” Kyle’s laughter died on his lips and brown eyes settled on my mouth all over again hungrily. My tongue danced over the outline of my lips and Kyle was pulling me even closer to him, making it so that I was positioned right over the way he strained at his jeans. His fingers dug into my thigh and my lower back and he gazed at me. “Do it again.”

“Do what?” I asked, doing my best to feign innocence, despite knowing exactly what I was doing, thanks to a conversation we’d both had once a while back about what turned us on and off.

“Lick your lips, babe.” Kyle’s voice was so husky, thickened with desire that his words almost came in a quiet growl. I rocked against him a little and thick digits dug into my body all that much tighter. Instead of licking my own lips this time, I took a shaky breath or two and really pressed myself against him, daring to trail my tongue right over the outline of his lips.

“Fuck.” Kyle swore quietly, closely followed by a groan.

“Listen, if you want to kiss me, I’m not stopping you.” I purred, repeating the slow drag of my tongue over the outline of kissable lips, teasing him a little.

Because it was the only thing I knew to do to keep me from just going for it… and yet, being able to clue him into how badly I wanted his lips on mine at the moment without daring to say so. Because I’d been trying, but the words had yet to leave my mouth.

“Oh, you’re not, hm?” Kyle’s mouth was against mine in a flash, I barely got any time to process it happening. His hand left my thigh, traveling upward, catching in the hair at the back of my head as his fingers tangled up in it, using his grip to pull my mouth in even deeper. I whimpered and my mouth fell apart willingly, granting his tongue access to mine and his other hand gripped my hip tight, guiding me over the hefty bulge straining at the front of his favorite blue jeans. “That’s good.” he mumbled, the words hanging in the air as the kiss broke a few seconds for us to breathe. My hand slid down the front of his hoodie and settled between us, fingertips toying with the hem of the garment as I stared at him. He continued, “It’s good because I really, really… really… want to kiss you. I have for a while now.”

I leaned in all over again, pressing my upper body against his and leaning him back against the back of the couch as I caught his face in my hands and pulled his mouth against mine all over again greedily. As I kissed him, I rocked myself against him. His hands flexed and squeezed on my thighs, and he groaned quietly into the kiss, bucking himself against me, giving a low chuckle. “Feels so damn good to finally kiss you.” he half mumbled and half growled against my neck as his mouth broke from mine and trailed down it, “So good. You have no idea.”

I whimpered, whining impatiently because his grip bought my grinding against him to a momentary pause, and his free hand raised, catching on my jaw, making me meet his gaze. The tender look in lust blown brown eyes nearly blew me away and I felt my breath catch in my throat. “Love you, sweetheart. I’m glad to be home.”

“Love you too, Kyle. I’m glad you’re finally home.” I mumbled, our mouths already closing the distance as we both went in for another kiss….

#12daysofchristmas #12 days of christmas #kyle o'reilly #kyle o'reilly fanfiction #kyle o'reilly fanfic #kyle o'reilly imagine #kyle o'reilly oneshot #kyle o'reilly imagines #my writing; kyle o'reilly #my fics; kyle o'reilly #my oneshots; kyle o'reilly #// suggestive; grinding / lap riding/ dry humping

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ongaku-ato-kakikomi · 4 years

Note

ooooo :0c sorry for bothering but do you think you could write for the monster prom characters with an s/o who has a really don't mess with me attitude but enjoys cute things, is kinda touch starved an' they like get hella scared when people yell at/near them

Miranda Vanderbilt:

You and Miranda were walking around local shops in town, your girlfriend wanting to see where people of your social status go shopping (you cringed a little at those words, but you know she didn’t mean any harm). Though you looked like you were hating every single spec of this outing since you had to step out of your house, you actually quite enjoyed shopping with Mir’… especially since she seems to be amazed by anything she sees.

“Love, look!” You turn your head towards the mermaid princess just in time for her to hand you a beautiful and glowing (f/c) flower that she bought while you were looking away, a bright smile on her face. “This flower is as adorable as you… You shall take it and keep it close to your heart.”

Your neutral expression suddenly breaks into a red mess when her words stab your heart, your fingers slowly picking up the flower from her own while looking at the ground.

“I-I’m not adorable…” You can’t help but silently be mesmerized by the glowing flower in your hand, already trying to think of a place to put it back at home. “… but thank you.”

Her grin stretches out at the sight of you, your eyes soon going wide when she gives your cheek a quick kiss.

“You’re adorable to me.” She just giggles when you start grumbling under your breath, her hand soon intertwining with your free one before she drags you towards another shop. “Come on now! We have so many more things to see! My kingdom is also in a lack of serfs these days… Do you think one of those shops sell them?”

You can’t help but let out a small smile as you follow her.

Damien LaVey:

The first time Damien invited you to Hell, things were awesome: You tortured a few folks, had dinner with his dads, got to meet a few dead celebrities in complete agony… but the one thing you had been looking out for the most was the tour, and Damien was more than happy to be your guide. He showed you everything he knew you would like and he fucking loved how bright your eyes were sparkling the entire time. Everything had been perfect and awesome until you both got tired, and so you decided to go back to his home.

It’s on the way back home that you met what is commonly known as a fire dog: so basically a dog from hell that is constantly on fire. The creature had been designed to be both cute and awesome, but also to help torture more humans with its deadly features. Damien was expecting you to burst in admiration at the design, but what he wasn’t expecting was for your face to turn into this mushy adorableness as you kneel in front of the creature.

“You… are… so… cute!” His eyes had gone wide in shock when you outstretched your hand gloved with fire protector to pet the said the dog, the creature leaning into your touch as you scratch its head. “Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy!”

He couldn’t help but snort at the excessively high pitch voice you just used, not having expected that from you at all. You snap your head back at him to send him a glare, your eyes full of a dark emotion.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You.” He puts his hands into his jacket’s pocket and gives out a smirk. “You’re adorable.”

“I’m not…!” Red spreads onto your cheeks faster than a deadly disease, your gloved hand now petting the dog’s belly as it rolls onto its back. “I’m not adorable! I-I’m dangerous!”

“That too.” His smirk stretches out. “But right now, mostly adorable.”

It’s when you let out an exasperated groan that he knew you were the right one.

Scott Howl:

“(Y/N)!” You give out a yelp when large arms suddenly engulf you into a tight hug, not having expected that in the slightest since you were too enraptured into your phone’s content. “I missed you!”

You give out a light chuckle once you recognize the cheery voice of Scott, a small crimson color settling onto your skin as you pat one of his arms.

“Of course you did.” The color deepens when he rubs his cheek against yours, knowing how bright his smile must be. “… I missed you too…”

He gasps in pure joy at those words, ignoring your annoyed grumbling before he picks you up and swirls you around laughing. You almost never admit things like that, so the fact that you just said it out of nowhere made his heart burst out in happiness.

“You missed me! You said you missed me!”

“P-put me down!” You excessively move your arms with wide-open eyes until he finally puts you on the ground, trying not to let his joyful laugh affect your heartbeat so bad. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Awn, but I like hugging you.”

“That wasn’t hugging, that was an attack!”

He tilts his head at you, confused. “It was?”

“Yeah-”

“Hey, Scott!” You jump up in fear at the sound of that voice, not liking how loud and close it was to you just now. “Are you grabbing a bite with the boys?”

You unconsciously start to tremble as Scott’s cousin speaks with him, putting a hand against your chest to slow down your breathing. The werewolf boy notices your stressful state, and though he doesn’t quite understand everything you’re going through despite you having explained it to him multiple time, he knows you don’t like when people scream, and so he shakes his head at his cousin.

“Nah, sorry.” You give out another yelp when he puts his arm around your shoulders and crushes you into another tight hug. “I’m spending the evening with (Y/N)!”

The cousin quirks an eyebrow before he shrugs and leaves. “Whatever you say, dude.”

You wait for him to have left before you shyly look away. “… Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, sweet cheeks!”

You just give out another grumble when he pinches your said cheek, only making him laugh loudly in response.

Liam de Lioncourt:

You carefully observe the purple vampire on the opposite side of the table, his yellow eyes silently reading through another old book of his while you’re trying to not bother him. You promised you’d let him read in peace and not force him on another of your dangerous adventures out of nowhere. Lucky for him, you’re not in the mood for something deadly, as he would call it.

Your (e/c) orbs slowly move away from his concentrated expression to one of his hands holding the book, your own starting to shake as you try to suppress the need to hold one of them this instant. You desperately need some touch to ease down the tension in your mind and heart, but once again; you don’t want to bother him. Plus, wouldn’t it be hard to turn the pages if he only has one hand?

The sigh escaping his lips brings you back to reality in time to notice him stretching his hand on the table towards you, your expression turning to a confused yet hopeful one as you look back to his. His eyes are still looking straight towards the content of his book, but the simple movement of his fingers urging you to take his hand gives you the answer you need.

You gently put your hand in his and you instantly feel your whole body relax, your happy smile resting on your lips despite your edgy features. Your heart melts when his thumb starts caressing your skin unconsciously, your head instantly dropping onto the table so you can hide the heat your feeling rising inside your neck.

You hate that you hear him chuckle.

“Tired?”

“Shut up.”

Polly Geist:

The blaring music and long screams around you makes your soul terrifyingly shake through your entire core. You normally never stay long at the parties Polly always invite you to; they’re loud and too crowded for your taste, but this time you wanted to force yourself to stay to spend more time with her.

Bad idea.

Now you’re looking around with fear in your eyes, all the sounds cutting through your brain like a sharp knife, and everyone’s too afraid of your tough nature to even ask if you’re okay. You don’t have the reputation of being good and kind among the monsters, and so you desperately try to spot Polly’s ghostly figure through the crowd.

You finally manage to find her, a ghostly alcohol beverage in her hands as she laughs with other strangers. You don’t care if you push a few people away while you walk towards her form, not letting your eyes wander away from her until your fingers brush against her cold shoulder.

She turns her head towards you with a wide grin, but she soon loses it when she notices your whitening expression and the slight fear jolts going through your body.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

“I-I…” You stop speaking and shake your head, trying to regain some composure. “Can we go, please?”

“Yeah, of course!” She drops her cup on the ground and links her arm with yours, giving you a comforting smile while she leads you towards the exit. “Let’s go chill at your house. This party’s lame anyway.”

You give her a small smile, silently thanking her for saving you from this nightmare.

Vera Oberlin:

The gorgon girl silently types on her phone as she stares at it intently, an unreadable expression settled on her face as she exchanges orders with her minions. Boredom is swirling inside her chest, a few annoyed groans almost escaping her throat during her text conversations with mere people. Crime has been dull and repetitive today; nothing was interesting her or lightening a spark inside her heart.

She slightly stiffs up when she feels arms slowly enrapt around her form, but rapidly relaxes when you hide your face in the crook of her neck and exhale in relief. She frees one of her hands to carefully let her fingers go through your hair, feeling your own body relax through her touch. She gives out a small smile, slightly turning her head to give the top of your head a kiss before she continues to type.

“Hard day?”

You tighten your grip on her, your face slightly rubbing against her skin in the process. “Hm-hm.”

Before she got to know you, she would never have guessed how much you needed touch, but she would lie if she said she didn’t like it.

“Crime’s not interesting today.” She puts her phone on the counter and frees herself from your arms to be able to turn around, her hands rapidly cupping your cheeks as her eyes lay on your tired expression. “How about a day in? Just us two?”

The light firing up in your eyes is the only answer she needs.

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

teeth

(Read Anne as Courtney!Anne)

Aragon and Anne make the best mother duo and you Cannot Change My Mind

(you can read this as Aralyn if you want, but it’s not written in that way and the line is pretty vague tbh)

Word count: 4769

———————

There was a crash.

And then a crack.

And then a crunch.

The girl at the bottom of the stairs had her bottom jaw bent in a horrible position, her tongue lolling out of one side and bloody drool spilled all down her chin. Her eyes are upturned in her skull; she didn’t seem to be all there, though no one was surprised. Those broken bones must be excruciating.

———

Eight weeks of silence. A jaw wired shut. Almost three months of only eating liquidated foods. Black and blue floral bruising bloomed across the sides of her face. An eternity of humiliation.

———

In theory, it was difficult to miss Joan. Nineteen years of age and the workaholic music director stood at roughly 5’4, and it didn’t look like she was going to be growing again anytime soon. However, in practice, the girl was so quiet and self-enclosed that a lot of the time, she practically melted into the theater walls. That made it a slightly unpleasant surprise when Aragon was disturbed from her reading by a quiet tapping at her doorframe—it was most undignified for a queen as regal as herself to startle like that.

An irritable comment jumped to her lips, but it died as she looked up. Joan looked...worried. That wouldn’t normally strike her in any meaningful way, not if it was anyone else at her door—everyone got worried sometimes, although a fair number of people found it more difficult to talk to her than to others. But for all that had happened in her past, Joan had maintained a rarely-changing expression of passivity throughout the time she’d been reincarnated. Perhaps as a defense mechanism, perhaps simply because that was her resting face; the girl just kept her emotions to herself. However, now, it was incredibly visible that she was experiencing the worst kind of gnawing fear if you knew how to look for it. Nails digging into her arms as she crossed them over her chest, eyes darting all over, and her heel pressing against her other shin like she was trying to keep from anxious tapping. The only reason her lip wasn’t chewed raw was because of the wires and rubber bands anchoring her mouth firmly shut.

Immediately, the irritation turned to alarm bells.

The two just looked at each other for a few minutes, neither seemingly willing to break the silence first. Then, slowly, Joan took one step into the dressing room. Now her fingers were digging into her arm more. Aragon felt the strongest urge to get up from her chair and check to make sure she hadn’t broken skin, but at the same time, she feared that if she tried to move too quickly she would spook this very obviously troubled girl back into her usual repression. It would be wiser to wait for her to say whatever it was she was struggling to get out, but that didn’t make the decision any easier as a thousand and one possibilities as to what could have gone wrong raced through her head.

“May I talk to you, Aragon?”

The hesitation in the girl’s sign language only made those alarm bells ringing in her head louder. It was only her many, many years as a queen that allowed Aragon to keep her voice calm.

“Of course, Joan. Come, sit.”

Slowly, painfully so, Joan made her way to the chair opposite her, after closing the door to the dressing room behind her. But she didn’t sit down. Rather, she stood next to it. Ordinarily Aragon might have taken that as one of those little acts of rebellion Kitty liked to partake in from time to time, but not in this case. It felt more like the unwillingness of a confronted animal to lay down, for fear that they might need to flee at a moment's notice. That bad, then. Carefully, the queen put her bookmark in between the pages she was on and then set the book to the side. Whatever this was about, she doubted it would be over quickly.

“Now then, what is it you want to discuss?”

“Well… The director talked to me. He said I should take some time off to heal.” Joan signed.

“That’s good,” Aragon said. However, she noticed the frown set on Joan’s lips and realized that it was most definitely not a good thing.

“Maybe.” Joan let her hands go limp for a movement, then raised them again to continue. “But that got me thinking. Maybe, even after I heal, I should just leave the wires in. Seems like everyone would be happier without me talking.”

“Joan, you can’t seriously be thinking of doing that?”

Through great force of will Aragon managed to keep her tone mostly level, but even the very slight undertone of ice and steel buried under a dozen layers of constraint made Joan flinch.

“I-I just....”

“I don’t see why you think that’s a good idea. Do you know how damaging that could be for your mouth? It can’t remain shut forever.”

“Aragon-”

“Not to mention that you could put so many other factors at risk-”

“Aragon, please!”

Well that cut her off sharply.

For a moment Aragon just blinked at the girl, startled. This was perhaps the first time she had heard Joan raise her voice at anybody, let alone a queen. It was especially shocking because it had come out more as a strangled hiss between firmly clamped teeth, like the freezing whisper of a fanged glacier. But as she got over that element of surprise, she noticed two things about the girl standing before her. Firstly, it was that she was shaking, quite badly, actually. And secondly, that the bruises along her cheeks were ignited in shades of ivory and indigo and violet from the way she had been clenching her jaws through their bindings.

Moving oh-so-carefully, Aragon up her purse and began to rifle through it. Joan stepped back, but what she brought out wasn’t some form of weapon, but rather a small tin box. A box which Aragon opened and turned towards her.

“Have a mint, Joan.”

Joan just looked at her, baffled.

Aragon quickly realized her mistake and grimaced. It gets the smallest, weakest smile from Joan. She takes one, despite knowing she couldn’t eat it, signed a rapid apology, then left.

———

Trudging into the coffee shop during a fire-breathing rainstorm made Joan miserable enough, but it only got worse when the shrewd older woman working the counter wouldn’t take her order when she attempted to sign it to her and then write it out.

“I’m sorry, but you’re going to need to use your words.” She oozed.

Joan gestured for her bruised mouth and then bared her teeth so she could show the woman that they were firmly clamped shut with rubber bands. The worker leaned back slightly in distaste.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” She said. “Mutes aren’t our top priority here. You can just wait your turn while I handle the other customers.”

Joan waved her head around to find the shop completely empty thanks to the storm outside. She turned back to the worker with an “are you kidding me?” look.

“She’s in the bathroom.” The worker said cooly.

Joan glowered, but her anger quickly dissolved and she made the closest thing to a sigh that she could manage. She stepped away from the counter and waited.

Several long moments passed. The rain outside continuously eased up and then fell harder as if Mother Nature couldn’t decide if she wanted to flood the city today or not. The worker behind the counter kept glancing at Joan, hoping that she would just give up and leave. She was now regretting telling her to wait because it meant she had some disabled kid just loitering in her store when the front door suddenly swung open.

Two haughty American tourists came in with a spray of raindrops, closing their umbrellas, but keeping up their giddy chatter as they approached the counter. One of them glanced at Joan with a questioning look. The worker waved a dismissive hand.

“Ignore her,” She said. “She’s waiting her turn until she learns how to speak up.”

Joan glared and, once again, gestured for her mouth.

“What is wrong with you?” One of the two customers said, pacing around Joan while the other placed an order. “Why don’t you speak?” He eyed Joan’s bruised jaw. “Ohhh. I see.”

“My little brother broke his jaw once,” His friend piped up. “He couldn’t talk for two months!”

“What does it feel like?” The one in front of Joan asked. “Does it hurt?”

Then, without warning, he poked her roughly in the jaw, as if he were trying to pry it open himself. Joan swatted his hands away frantically and reared back, rubbing the area that had been touched. Pain spiraled from her mouth all over again.

“Don’t be a brute.” Said a sharp, barbed voice from behind Joan.

“Oh, hey!” The customer at the counter said. “You’re Anne Boleyn, aren’t you?”

Joan turned and was shocked to see that it was, in fact, Anne Boleyn herself standing there. Her arms were crossed firmly over her chest and her eyes narrowed in a venomous glare. She looked like a coiled up snake ready to lunge.

“Yes,” Anne said, casting a dark glare down on the customers, who step away, sensing her anger. She comes up beside Joan and sets a comforting, protective hand on her shoulder. “You will not touch her again.”

The two tourists nodded and awkwardly sidled away to take their drinks and scamper out with their proverbial tails tucked between their legs.

“Now,” Anne turned her glower on the worker. “I understand that Joan had wanted something?”

“She can wait. You were here first.” The worker said.

Anne ruffled. “Serve her right now.” She snarled lowly, and even Joan was startled by her sudden tone. It was as deep and rumbling as a big cat’s growl, yet cold and scaly like a King Cobra.

The worker didn’t dare quarrel with the woman, so she plucked up the piece of paper left on the counter with Joan’s order and began to make the drink. The whole time, Joan stood still at Anne’s side, eyes wide.

After the drink was finished, Anne ordered one of her own, paid, and then guided Joan over to the front of the shop. She’s not at all bristled anymore and wore a warm smile on her lips.

“That was fun,” She chuckled lightly. “Say, kiddo, wanna come over for dinner? Sudden, I know-“ She laughed this time, a hearty, real one. “But I want to keep an eye on you. Plus, I know we’re having soup tonight. You can eat soup, can’t you?”

Joan nodded, flustered. Anne’s grin grew wider.

“Wonderful.”

—

“We have company!” Anne chimed loudly as she walked through the front door with a fidgeting Joan in tow.

Several heads popped up from an area in the downstairs area, each wearing a different expression- Cathy at the dining table with a curious look, Kitty and Jane on the couch with matching bitter frowns, Cleves from the downstairs hallway with friendly eyes, and Aragon in the kitchen with a warm grin. All Joan can do is give a tiny wave and a nervous smile.

“Hello, dear,” Aragon greeted as Anne and Joan walked over to the kitchen counter. The smell of basil and tomatoes drifted from the pot she was stirring. Anne’s memory hadn’t failed her- they were eating soup that night.

“Hello, beautiful.” Anne replied and Aragon shot her a look, although Joan could tell it was mock-annoyance. “I found this little rascal,” She set a hand on Joan’s head. “at that coffee shop with really good hot chocolate but really shitty workers.”

Aragon knew exactly what she meant, as she gave a knowing nod.

“Ah. That one.” She shook her head, looking back down at the pot. “I’m not sure what they did, but I’ll make sure to leave a one-star review on Yelp.”

Anne laughed, and even Joan gave a tiny giggle.

“Oh! I should show you my falcon before dinner!”

“It’s raining,” Jane said helpfully from the couch. Anne gave her a snake-like glower.

“Don’t be a buzzkill,” She said. “Come on, my darling!”

She grabbed Joan by the hand and led her out to the backyard, missing the blush that dusted her cheeks from the use of the pet name.

The two of them walk out to the backyard, Joan holding an umbrella over their heads, and towards a large wooden structure. It sort of looked like a house with a metal net grating over the sides. Joan could see several perches from inside it.

Anne gave her a wild smile before she slipped on a glove and opened the small door on the front. She held her arm into the pen and then pulled back after a moment, a beautiful brown and grey falcon perched on her wrist. Joan goggles at it with wide eyes.

“This is Baguette.” Anne said. “Just kidding! Her name is Freya. Isn’t she pretty?”

Joan nodded excitedly.

“Watch this.” Anne grinned. “Freya! Hup!”

Anne threw a leather lure as high as she could in the air and Freya shot off of her arm like a rocket. Her wings were primed and they slammed down with more than enough force to send her spiraling into the sky. He darted after the lure, and Anne snapped the cord attached to it, sending the mouse-sized lump off to the side, spinning like a satellite on a line around her. Freya banked, flying up and away a short way before looping around and diving at the lure. It’s clear that she is very good at this game, but Anne had learned just the right moment to change the angle of her swing, switching the direction the lure is sailing and throwing her off just enough that she has to make another pass.

Anne twirled the lure like a lasso, changing the pitch and yaw of the loops, sending it higher, lower, and in sweeping waves. Freya moves like a lightning strike in a hurricane, dive bombing one moment just as she yanks it away, rising back to circle, prepare, and dive again.

They fall into a rhythm, just different enough to keep them on their toes, but solid enough that the rest of the world faded away, until Freya broke off suddenly, catching a glimpse of something else.

“Freya!” Anne shouted as Joan giggled softly beside her. She snapped the lure in an attempt to catch her bird’s attention. “Come on! You’re making a bad first impression!”

Freya wheeled around after a moment and soared back down to the two. She lands dutifully on Anne’s outstretched arm, but is clearly a little crabby about not being able to catch her prey. She eases up when Anne gives her a treat.

“Wanna hold her?” Anne asked Joan, who nodded eagerly. She passed the girl a glove, which she quickly pulled on. “Okay. Be very careful, okay? And don’t freak out.”

Anne took the umbrella and passed Freya over to Joan. The bird stepped onto the younger girl’s arms and flexed her razor sharp talons around the glove, squeezing Joan’s wrist. Joan eyed the claws wryly.

Anne could tell Joan had a million questions, but her wired jaw kept her from verbalizing them. All she could do was stare at the falcon and the falconer with saucer-wide eyes.

“Dinner’s ready!” Aragon suddenly called from the back door.

Joan jolted a little and instinctively leaned away, but Freya remained poised on her arm. Anne laughed and put her bird back into her pen.

“Impressed?” She grinned.

Joan nodded.

“Good!” Anne said. “Now, let’s get inside before Catalina starts yelling at us about catching our death out here or something.”

The two of them walked back inside the house, being hit by the wonderful smell of the soup, which Aragon was pouring into seven different colored bowls. She smiled at them.

“Have fun?”

“Yup!” Anne said. “Joan was very impressed.”

Joan gave two thumbs up in agreement. Aragon’s heart melted.

“Why are there seven bowls?” Kitty asked obnoxiously.

“Uhh. Joan.” Aragon answered, blinking. “You should know that, Kat. She’s standing right there.”

“Yeah, but... Can she even eat?”

“Kit, don’t be stupid,” Anne said, slightly defensive. “Come on, stop acting like this. You know damn well that the doctors wouldn’t wire her jaw shut for a long period of time if she wouldn’t be able to eat or drink for that long.”

Kitty is clearly miffed by her cousin not being on her side and shoots a glare at Joan for it. Then, she raised her nose, looked away, and huffed out an annoyed breath.

“How long will the wires be there?” Cathy asked curiously.

Joan held up eight fingers.

“Weeks?”

She nodded.

There was a swell of murmurs- intrigued, pitiful, amused. Aragon was the one who grimaced.

“I couldn’t imagine that,” She said, rubbing her own jaw as if she thought it might spontaneously break. “Not being able to open my mouth for that long.”

“It’s like reverse lockjaw,” Cleves observed. “Just with less seizures.”

“Does it hurt?” Cathy asked.

Joan made a so-so gesture and then set a tentative hand on one of her heavily bruised cheeks, remembering the touch from that rude tourist. Ever since she had been prodded, her jaw had started hurting again. It felt like someone was trying to forcefully pry her mouth open with a crowbar.

She tried to just ignore it and sat down at the dinner table after getting her bowl. The soup was a lot chunkier than she had been expecting; she looked at the slices of potato in dismay, unsure how she would get them past her firm wall of teeth.

“Need a straw?” Kitty teased. She yelped loudly when Anne kicked her underneath the table.

Joan scowled at the pink queen, then brought a spoonful of soup to her lips. She had to awkwardly tip her head back slightly to make sure she didn’t spill anything on her. Sadly, her teeth were too bound together by rubber-bands to keep her jaws from moving from opening just a sliver to allow the bits of meat and potato to pass through, so only the liquids that flow through the random holes between her teeth reach her throat and stomach.

It had been much easier to drink her coffee.

“Sweetheart,” Aragon said, unable to watch the poor girl struggle any longer. “I’ll get the blender.”

Joan hunched her shoulders, embarrassed. Kitty tittered. Anne kicked her again.

“Ow!” Kitty whined. “Stop doing that!”

“Then stop being a brat.” Anne said cooly.

“I’m not a brat!”

“Well, you’re acting like one right now.”

“This is very entertaining.” Cleves commented. Anne flashed her an agreeing grin. Kitty sulked.

The loud sound of the blender stopped the argument from continuing. A few moments later, Aragon set a cup of blended soup with a straw in front of Joan. Joan gawked at it and then looked up at Aragon, one eyebrow raised. Aragon quickly swiped the straw.

“First the mint and now this?” Anne laughed.

“What mint?” Cathy asked.

“Catalina apparently offered Joan a mint earlier.” Anne told her.

Laughter erupted around the table. Aragon rolled her eyes as she sat back down.

“It was a mistake!” She tried to defend herself. “And an accident!”

Joan gave her a small smile before going back to eating. Well- drinking. Although, it wasn’t much easier. She wished she had the syringe she had been using for the past two days or the tube the doctors had used with her.

She quickly licked off the thick caking of soup on her lips, hoping that nobody had noticed it was there, then saw Kitty leering at her. She bristled and raised her eyebrows as if to say, “What?”

“What’s the name of that Warriors cat with the weird jaw?” Kitty asked the rest of the group, pleasantly pretending like Joan wasn’t sitting just a few feet away from her.

“Crookedjaw?” Cathy answered.

“Yeah!” Kitty turned to Joan with a smile as crooked as the girl’s mouth. “We can call you Crookedjaw! Seems like a fitting nickname.”

Anne gaped in horror at her younger cousin. She was so startled that she couldn’t even kick the queen. Aragon, on the other hand, wasn’t as stricken as she was.

“Katherine, what the fuck?” Aragon seethed.

“What?” Kitty said innocently. “It fits her!”

“Are you fucking nuts?” Aragon said, eyes wide and burning like hot embers. “No, actually- are you stupid?”

“She was just messing around, Catherine.” Jane tried to smooth things over.

“Don’t defend her!” Aragon snapped. “You should tighten the leash on her.”

“She’s not a dog.” Jane hissed.

“And yet she’s as annoying as a chihuahua that never shuts up,” Aragon said. She stood up, grabbed her bowl, and walked over to Joan. “Come on, Joan.”

Joan got up and followed her to the staircase. Anne went with them, but not without rounding on her cousin.

“If you’re going to call her Crookedjaw, then maybe we should start calling you Lostneck or Severedhead.” She said coldly. A mocking smile curled on her lips. “Because it fits.”

Kitty went rigid, but neither Anne or Aragon stuck around for her possible panic attack. They herd Joan upstairs and to Aragon’s room.

“I am so sorry, Joan.” Anne said once they were inside. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

“She thinks everything will be handed to her on a silver platter.” Aragon stated as she began to rummage through her pajamas. “Entitled brat. Just like you said.”

Anne nodded in agreement, then looked back at Joan. She carefully cupped one of her cheeks.

“Are you okay, my darling?”

Joan closed her eyes, unconsciously leaned into the touch, and nodded.

“Alright.” Anne said. “So... Movie night?”

“Sounds good to me,” Aragon said. She tossed a pair of pajamas over to Joan. “They might be a little big, but you can wear these.”

Joan nodded and padded off to the bathroom to change. When she returns, she finds Aragon and Anne already situated on the bed in their pajamas. Aragon was clad in a pale yellow nightgown with white rims and a bow near the collar, while Anne was dressed in green cotton sleeping pants and a button-down shirt of the same color. Joan looked a lot less fancy in a grey T-shirt with something about a fishing competition embroidered in white on it, which she had no idea what the origins of it being Catherine of Aragon’s dresser were, and some black gym shorts.

“Come on,” Anne waved her over, rolling out of the bed. “Lay down!”

It takes Joan a moment to realize she was supposed to lay in between them. She swallowed down her flustered feelings and obeyed, clambering up the side of the bed and sitting beside Aragon with her knees huddled close to her chest. She could feel the golden queen’s comforting warmth wavering off of her half-reclined body.

God, she was pathetic. Ever since Anne she touched her shoulder at that coffee shop something had awoken within her and refused to go back to sleep.

That something ranged from a persistently mewing kitten to a starved, roaring lion—she’d tried for a sheep or goat metaphor, because that seemed more fitting for her, but frankly, sheep were a good bit easier to manage than whatever this was.

Joan pointed to the TV as movies were flicked through and then gave each queen a questioning look. She knew she could sign, but she didn’t feel like putting Anne and Aragon through the process of having to translate what she was saying. Plus, just being completely quiet and onto using facial features and occasional gestures like this almost felt...serene.

“We’re watching Hush.” Anne said, smirking slightly. “Which has absolutely nothing to do with you not being able to talk, I promise.”

Joan giggled softly and nodded.

“Only because you lost Rock, Paper, Scissors.” Aragon retorted. She looked at Joan with motherly concern that nearly sent Joan keeling over into her chest crying. “Are you okay to watch it?”

Joan nodded. She could take it, really! She wasn’t a baby!

And yet, when the neighbor character is suddenly slammed against the glass backdoor with a knife in her gut, she still lurched backwards and nearly climbed up the headboard in fear. Anne laughed sympathetically, while Aragon gently touched her hand.

“Are you okay, sweet girl?” She asked softly.

Joan nodded, but still ducked her head away from the screen, wincing.

Aragon watched the poor girl cringe for two more minutes before she wrapped her up in her arms and pulled her securely against her chest. Joan was clearly surprised by this, but didn’t make any move to pull away. In fact, she burrowed deep into her embrace.

“Awww,” Anne cooed, glancing at the two of them. “So cute.”

“Jealous?” Aragon smirked.

Anne stuck her tongue out at her, then resumed watching.

Joan peeked out from where she had her face smothered in Aragon’s soft chest and begrudgingly continued to watch the movie because she was interested in it, she was just a tad bit frightened by it. But, again, it was okay! SHE was okay!

And then they got to the closeup of Maddie’s hand being broken and the memory of falling down the stairs flashed through Joan’s brain- slipping and falling, tumbling down each step, smashing her jaw into the tile at the bottom, the bones in her mouth crunching and cracking and grinding, her teeth cutting into her tongue and feeling like it had been severed completely, blood gargling in her throat, everyone staring at her. It was horrific, it STILL WAS horrific.

“Anne!” Aragon barked when Joan whimpered and hid her face back into her chest.

“I didn’t know that was in it!” Anne said, raising her hands. “This is the first time I’m seeing this!”

Anne paused the movie and turned to Joan, who was shaking in Aragon’s arm. She gently began to rub her back comfortingly, seeing as Aragon was already stroking her hair.

“Joan? My darling?” Anne called. “Are you okay?”

Joan nodded weakly, sniffling. She raised her head and Aragon immediately wiped away the tears in her eyes.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Aragon murmured.

“Does anything hurt?” Anne asked. “Or did you just get scared?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aragon nodded. “What she said! Are you hurting?”

Joan shrugged, looking away. Aragon slapped Anne’s arm frantically.

“Go get painkillers.”

“Catalina, how is she supposed to swallow a PILL?” Anne cried.

“Oh no, you’re right!” Aragon pulled Joan close to her bosom and bright red mixed awkwardly with purple and blue on the girl’s face. “My baby’s going to die!” She said woefully.

“She’s not going to—” Anne had to stop to give Aragon a confused looked. “She’s not going to die, Catalina.” She glanced momentarily at Joan smooshed against her chest. “I mean, not from not taking a pill, but your tits might suffocate her to death.”

Aragon looked down at Joan and quickly pushed her back. She cleared her throat and smoothed out her nightgown.

“Yes. Of course.” She said and Anne and Joan both laughed. She gave them a look. “I was just acting! I am an actor. And you fell for it!”

Anne rolled her eyes in a good natured way. “Yeah, okay.”

After making sure Joan was completely okay, they ended up switching the movie to The Incredibles 2. Joan was still very giddy from the way both queens fussed over her, and yet she still found her eyelids drooping shut...

—

“Catalina, look,” Anne whispered.

Aragon turned her attention away from the movie to look at Joan curled against Anne, soundly asleep. Then, she noticed one of the girl’s hands grasping three of her fingers- apparently she couldn’t find the other two in her tired daze. Her heart absolutely melted.

“Oh my,” She murmured. “What a sweet girl.”

“I know,” Anne grinned. “She’s so cute.” She leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of Joan’s head, causing her to stir with a sleepy noise before settling down. Anne gently began to stroke her hair.

Aragon moved closer until she and Anne were practically sandwiching the girl with their bodies. Joan seemed content, though, as she would constantly nuzzle closer to the warmth and touch.

Perhaps the eight weeks wouldn’t be so bad after all...

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six fanfiction #sixfic #catherine of aragon #mamagon #nana boleyn #anne boleyn #katherine howard #joan on the keys #jane seymour #anna of cleves #catherine parr #aralyn #aragon x boleyn #teeth

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